


Halliwell's Legacy

by LemillionReasons



Category: Charmed (TV 1998), Supernatural
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/F, F/M, Girl Power, M/M, Magic, Other, Power of Three, Romance, Sisterly bond - Freeform, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Slow To Update, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 57,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24746320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemillionReasons/pseuds/LemillionReasons
Summary: Continuing the legacy of the famous Charmed Ones, Piper's granddaughters, Vanessa, Veronica, and Valeria Halliwell inherent the Power of Three, allowing for the sister's father, Wyatt, and his siblings to step down into retirement, and to take on the new powers of evil and to vanquish them all while looking fashionable.But, with newer threats and powerful demons, the sisters encounter a different world outside of San Fransico, hopefully with the help of the Winchesters they can learn and adapt to the new bumps in the night. Perhaps with a little love along the way.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. Halliwell's Legacy 1.01

**Author's Note:**

> [ The Halliwell's have always been an odd sort of people, after all being born in a line of witches is truly odd. After an ancient demon influences the line of witches to be involved with the lives of the Winchesters, things get complicated for everyone. With the eldest sister, Vanessa being feisty and witty; Veronica being the middle sister and the peacekeeper and Valeria being the youngest and most quiet of the three.  
> They will try there best in helping and saving as many lives as they possibly can, all with a little magic and sisterly bonding. Oh, and challenges of finding love in unnatural resources. ]
> 
> This is a Charmed / Supernatural story. Charmed being from 1998 - 2005 and Supernatural being from 2005 - 2020. I rewrote somethings, but am continuing on to the lives of the original Halliwell sisters. For example, Wyatt has three daughters, Vanessa, Veronica, and Valeria Halliwell. I have a complete journal of the past seven years of working on this alone.  
> This story will include, smut, all the normal ratings for both Charmed and Supernatural, for example violence, gore, blood etc. I also only write in great detail so prepare for long chapters.  
> The Chapters are "Episodes" in my mind, each with a beginning and an ending. There will be first POV being of Vanessa, and third POV to characterized the other muses I have created in the story, ships include Vanessa&Dean Feriae&Sam. As well as the respective marriages of Piper and Leo, Phoebe and Coop, etc.  
> This story will also be a very slow burn; details in the next paragraph. 
> 
> Please be aware that with every "Episode" it will take me time as the first "Episode" consists of 16k words already. "***" are designed as time skips as well as switching from First to Third unless stated otherwise. The setting does start in Season 1 however most of the "Episodes" will consist of Charmed theme episodes and may not feature the Winchester Brothers until at least around Season 2. Think of it as; filler episodes until they are all respectively together.
> 
> I will add more to this if need be in the meantime please enjoy, have a wonderful day.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1.01 Halliwell's Legacy:  
> The Halliwell legacy continues in the grand Victorian Halliwell Manor in San Fransico. A powerful demon from the Underworld raises, taking innocent lives in the hoping to bait the Protector of Innocence to lure and kill them for their powers. Veronica Halliwell; injured during an attack previously from the enemy, Vanessa Halliwell quickly counterattacks with force. However, she meets the unlikely hunter brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester. Leading Vanessa into a spiraling new world of enemies she has to protect her sisters from. Meanwhile, Valeria discovers a new secret within the halls of Magic School with her grandfather, Leo Wyatt.

The crystal in front of me swung in a circle around a map. "Is this the life that my ancestors wanted for me? Probably not," I mumbled to myself as I focused on the image in my head. The blanket underneath me was not as comfortable as I thought while I sat crisscrossed in the back of my car, trying to focus on this location. I was a witch; my methods were not to what other hunters were accustomed to, and sometimes, more often than not, I’m the one of the hunted. I felt the crystal finally drop. There were monsters out in the world, and while there are hunters who bump back in the middle of the night with them. However, there were monsters that my family knew about, evil forces that hide more profoundly in the darkness and only come out for exceptional cases; this was one of these cases.  
I opened my eyes to peer down at the spot where the crystal laid, not that far from where I was. I got off of my car, gathering the equipment I used to find the location of what I was looking for, moving to open the trunk placing them inside before shutting the trunk closed; I clenched my jaw slightly as I pulled the keys out of my pocket, feeling the weight on the palm of my hand. I walked over to the driver's side of my car and got into the seat. My phone was vibrating on the dash; I bit my thumb's fingernail as I grabbed it.

"Hello," I answered, keeping my voice as steady as possible as I put the hearing piece to my ear to hear the person calling me.   
"V, where are you?" My sister's worried tone of voice sounded through the speaker. I placed the key to turn on my car's engine, keeping my voice calm before responding.  
"Out." I flicked the metal keys to turn the car on.  
"You can't do this; dad taught us better. Grams taught us better; we work together; as a team, as sisters, we are stronger together," Valeria responded to me with the same concerned tone. She was one of my younger sisters.

 _'Usually, I stay together with my sisters but with recent events and Veronica getting hurt from the monster that attacked us. I went rogue, I was the oldest, and I wouldn't stand by and allowed anything to get away from hurting them_ ,' I sighed, thinking of a way of response.

"Val, I'll be fine. How's Ronnie?" I asked, trying to calm her down, my free hand moving to grip the steering wheel in front of me. I heard Valeria's sigh from the speaker and a moment of silence.   
"She's feeling better than she was," She said, sounding tired, Valeria may be the youngest, but she was always the one that worried the most. I clenched my jaw as I glanced out the windshield; it was nighttime, and my headlights were off, but the engine was on.   
"V; promise us you'll do this right and not recklessly," Valeria said, concerned, and my eyes fell on the dashboard.   
"As long as you get some sleep," I responded, leaning back in my front seat.

Everything was different; the forces seemed stronger than our grandparents initially faced. It worried me, and it bothered my father. I sat back up in my seat, hanging up my phone. If I stayed on the phone for any longer, she would try to convince me to come home and stop this. But, with the risk of other innocents being in trouble, I couldn't take that chance.

The house was old, falling apart from the seams, windows boarded up and dark inside from the fallen boards. The outside plants writhed and dry, telling me no one has lived or been to this house in decades. To some, it wasn't very inviting, probably for a good reason. I heard the vibrating of my phone next to me; I ignored it, nighttime wasn't precisely entertaining of sorts, and it was also perilous. If I wasn't careful, I could die from this outcome; I had no sisters to back me up on this. I took my car keys out of the ignition, placing them in my pocket, and getting out of the car.

I closed the door and started walking towards the front door before my head started feeling dizzy. I could hear my father's voice call my name, probably trying to get me to turn back. If he is getting involved, he may show up. I pushed the sound out of my head and proceeded towards the front door.

There was no way that the door was unlocked, but it was worth a try. I hesitatingly put my hand in a ball as it moved towards the doorknob, grabbing hold of the rusty metal before twisting it. The door unlocked, and it made a squeaking sound telling me it hasn't had maintenance in a long time. The door making sound sent shivers all around my body. I already didn't like this; it felt like every fiber in my body wanted me to turn back and get my sister. Still, I pushed that feeling to the side; I couldn't let Valeria get hurt; it was terrible enough that Veronica got injured. I already decided; I would do this alone even if I usually did this with my sisters, but never alone. I took a deep breath as the lingering darkness filled the house; I raised my hand, summoning a ball of blue light.

White sheets covered the abandoned furniture, made shadows and figures in the room. I stepped into the cold, dusty, dark house with dangerous evil forces in it with innocent lives inside. Every once in a while, there was a creaking sound with my footsteps. It took one more step before my foot made a new hole; I stopped, taking a moment to get my footloose. I need to be more careful. Nervous wasn't the word that I could have felt, but I was feeling uneasy. I walked carefully around; old spider web covered paintings hung on the peeling wallpaper; the pictures were from the family that previously owned this place. Some wooden boards hung loose on the window frame. Wooden boards even laid on the ground, the stairs utterly obliterated. There was no way that anyone could be up there. One giant hole was in the ceiling's form, telling me it collapsed, and the debris laying underneath the hole confirmed my thoughts.

I gave a slightly shaky breath and bit the bottom of my lip. ' _I fought monsters and demons every day of the week; this is nothing.'_ I reminded myself as I walked toward an old kitchen. The light shined, making me see mold and cupboards broken and missing. Even though I was alone, or at least thought I was alone, I made a face that anyone could tell that it disgusted me before shaking my head to stop myself from getting sidetracked. Then I saw it, the door leading into the basement. It was the only thing that looked to be brand new in this house; I raised my eyebrow slightly.

"Of course," I whispered to no one but myself; I pressed my lips together and placed my hand on the doorknob. The palm of my hand grew hot and burned. I quickly let go and gave a slight whimper of pain, biting my lip to keep the scream in my throat. When I got used to the pain, I looked at the palm of my hand, not severely burnt. My eyes fell on the door in front of me.

I made the blue ball of light float beside my head as I kept my gaze on the door, moving slightly back and raising the hand I held the light in previously. I made my hand into a fist before I thrust it out in front of me, unclenching my fingers, and watched as the door turned into flakes. I shielded my eyes to keep the wooden separators from blinding me and moved to where the door once stood. Peering at the stairs leading down to the basement, I noticed a dim light illuminating the floorboards. A sickly feeling dropped in my stomach; I moved my fingers to shut off my light and stepped on the first step.

When my foot got to the last step of the stairs, I could fully make out the basement's room. There was a single desk, and the source of light was one lamp. The rest of the room was empty. I walked towards the center of the room, going towards the desk. There had to be something else in this room. Whenever I scryed for something, it was never wrong. As I was staring at the light, it flickered; there were no cold spots, which means there was no meddling from spirits; and as far as I know, I haven't seen one yet. And I know for sure what attacked my sister was not a ghost.

As I watched the lights flicker, the only noise in the room was the buzzing of the light. If I didn't know any better, something was inferring with the lights, but what attacked my sister wasn't a ghost. I'm hoping that it's not a ghost; I can't defeat a spirit without dying myself. The buzzing muffled, drowned out by the sounds of a moan, and I looked around, trying to pinpoint the source. There had to be a secret door somewhere; I made my light float to the side of my head as I touched the wall, trying to find a passageway. Before my fingers found a loose brick, I pushed the brick door open. I pressed my eyebrows together. When did I step into a fantasy reality with secret doors?

I looked where it led to; it led into the darkness, of course. Why was I expecting it to be bright and light? That would have just been more worrying some I moved the ball of light to go first, lighting my way as I walked in the shadows. I stopped at a doorway. The door was missing, and from what I could make of it, it was room, most likely, in a holding cell; I sent the light in and split it into three different lights to illuminate the entire room; the floor made of cold stones that had moist water shining from it. The walls matched the floor, drier but stone and bitter. However, there was only one thing in this room that piqued my interest.

In the corner, there was a figure sitting down; it was a man from what I could make out. And he wasn't exactly moving; despite it, I went over.

"Hey," I whispered, kneeling to the man unconscious; he was wearing rugged outdoor wear. I hovered my hand above him; a golden yellow started illuminating my hand.   
"Please, don't be dead," I whispered, focusing on my power. The man groaned and stirred a bit before rubbing his eyes to wake up. When he focused on me, he quickly got up.   
"Who are you?" Sam asked, confusion in his voice; his eyebrows shifted closer to each other as he looked at me. He was increasingly taller than I was, and I nearly had to hunch back to look up at him.  
"Vanessa. Who are you?" I asked, crossing my arms, and it took him a moment as he was staring at the lights circling. He looked at me, confused.   
"I'm Sam," He said before pointing up to the lights. I looked up before moving the lights back to my hand.   
"You're a witch?" Sam asked as he watched the light fall back into my hand.

I pressed my lips together; he must be a hunter. I titled my head before turning back to the doorway.   
"More or less," I mumbled before stepping back into the hallway and letting the light lead me. I felt a pressure grab my arm, and I looked up at the tall figure next to me.  
"Do you even know what is here?" He asked; it was weird his tone of voice was more concerned.  
"Yeah, why d'you think I'm here?" I asked casually back, drawing the light back to me.  
"I'm not sightseeing, Sam, I'm here to vanquish an evil creature," I said; his body moved to show to me that this answer shocked him; it wasn't until his face lit up that concerned me.

"You're one of them, aren't you?" He asked excitingly, a forming grin appearing on his face.  
"One of the Charmed ones. Oh man, the look on Dean's face when he finds out," Sam said, and I was even more confused.  
"Okay, well, as much as this unsettling fame moment is happening. I'm going to go," I said, pulling away from Sam and looking back at the hallway.

> A hooded figure stood before me, and I stepped back in response, the figure's face hidden, but I could see the pale and the blackened teeth of its mouth. The figure growled before throwing me backward; before I could hit anything, I orbed behind the figure.  
>  "Oh, wrong move," I raised my hands and pointed my fingers and hands at the figure standing in front.  
> It turned to fleshy chunks in that split second, and a few chucks lined the hallway, the walls, the ceiling, the floor, on me.  
>  "Uh," I mumbled, spitting to clear my mouth and my lips and then wiping the goo off of my face. The slime from the monster felt cold on my skin, and all I wanted to do was take a shower, maybe even throw myself into a volcano.  
>  "Cool," Sam said, peeking out of the room, and I looked at him with a grin on his face.  
> Sam's different from everyone I met over the years. A few moments passed, and we made our way outside. I was glad to be out of that house, but frowning when I looked at the goo stain of my clothing. These strains would not come out. Another outfit ruined by a monster.

"Hey, listen, thanks for healing me," Sam's voice sincerely said to me, and I stopped to look up at him.   
"What's a hunter doing in San Francisco, anyway? Thought you guys hunted in small towns," I responded, and he nodded his head.   
"So you know I'm a hunter," He looked at the ground and gave a small smile, and I nodded.

"Kinda easy to tell, camper look, looking kinda grumpy, didn't freak out when floating lights were floating around your head," I mentioned, and Sam gave a slight chuckle.  
"How do you know about me?" I asked, concerned about the fact that my entire family is witches.  
"Why aren't you trying to kill me?" I mentioned this, and Sam shrugged.  
"Well, we only come into cities for certain hunts," Sam started recalling.  
"This being one of them, it led us to discover unsolved cases related to the Halliwell's, which led us to the discovery of your ancestor Melinda Warren," He said with excitement in his voice.

I blinked before clenching my jaw a bit; this was weird, even for my life. No one has ever really looked at our family tree and gushed over it.  
"I mean, it's unbelievable, good witches aren't exactly heard of nowadays, but of course, you probably knew that," Sam was rambling at the most part before I raised my hand to stop him.  
"Time out; you did digging on us," Interrupting the conversation, putting my goo covered hands to stop his ramble.

An engine's purr stopped the conversation there, and I looked at an Impala pulling up, which is not something you see every day.  
"Uh, that's Dean; he doesn't like witches; let me do the talking," Sam whispered enough for me to hear as the car stopped and a man got out with the same outfit as Sam mostly but with a leather jacket.

It was too dark to tell, but even I could make out his good looks. However, he ruined it by him pointing a weapon at me.  
  
"Sam, are you okay?" He asked, concerned with a deep voice, and Sam stepped in front of me.  
"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks to Vanessa here," Sam blurted calmly, which lowered the weapon, and Dean looked behind him at me. I gave a small smile before moving away from behind Sam.

"This has been fun. I love to stay and chat, but I'm covered in goo, and I have a test tomorrow," I said, looking back down at my clothes and then tilting my head before going towards my car.  
"Wait," Sam said, and I turned to look at him.  
"Thanks," He said once more, and I gave a small smile before going to my car.

The Manor, an old Victorian house, with red paneling outside and white trims, the curtains pulled, but the porch light was still on. I turned the steering wheel to drive into the driveway. I parked, turning off the car and placing my hand in dried slime. I knew what was going to happen; I was going to get cumbersome wording from my family. But the most worrying part of it all is that there are hunters here, and they did their homework on us. I clenched my jaw before getting out of the car and walking on the path leading to the front door. It was an old double door, oak and with panels of gold, blue, green, and red with a gray-white in the center. It was a beautiful house, a family heirloom; why I still live here is beyond me. I opened the front door revealing the entry-way complete with a place to put coats and anything else.

I shut the front door, locking it, and then turning off the porch light. All the house lights seemed to be on, which shouldn't be the case since it's almost 4 am. Archways leading into the living room, the hallway leading to the dining room, kitchen, and of course, the stairs leading up to the attic and the rooms. The house is well-kept thanks to grandpa's hard work, the wooden archways made of dark oak. A plastic yellow as wallpaper and home pictures of the family through the years, including my siblings and me, about when we were kids, I tried to sneak past the living room, hoping no one was in there. There was an old rug leading inside that was the color of cream and light pink, something you find in a thrift store. Nearly everything in this house was antiques. The newer things were plants and other equipment to match the times, but all the furniture was old but well kept. Expect the poor grandfather clock that moved from its original spot to keep it from getting broken from demons' attacks. Light tan strained into the color of the old floorboards.

"Vanessa," I heard the voice of my grams, a warning tone called to me as if I was a small child that broke something. I moved my tongue to my cheek and pressed my lips before slowly turning to face her, smiling at her.  
"Hi, Grams," I was innocently smiling at her. She crossed her arms, and I could make out the disappointment in her face. I lightly stepped into the living room before she came over to me, placing her hands on my goo covered arms.  
"I know, the power of three is always the strongest," I recited before she could say anything, and I looked down at my feet. Grams sighed at me, her long white hair wrapped in a loose ponytail, and her green robe I got her last year wrapped around her.  
"No more going rogue," She whispered, raising my face for me to look at her.  
"And go get cleaned up," A smile formed on her face and mine.

Grams is one of the strongest and first generation of the Charmed Ones. Aged had played a part, her hair completely white, wrinkles but still the features of her youth from before, the small scar above eyebrow causing it to dip upwards and her brown eyes always happy and optimistic as ever. I knew her best by Grams, but she was best known as Piper Halliwell; I was her second oldest granddaughter. And my powers took after her's, which is why I have such a good handle on it. Along with her are my Great Aunts, Prue, Phoebe Halliwell, and their half-sister Paige Matthews. They become the most powerful good witches in the world, and the line only gets stronger. The next generations became stronger, starting with my father, Wyatt Halliwell.

I pulled away from Grams, climbing the stairs to the shower, the upstairs with the same antique decorations, family photos old and new, even baby photos of my sisters and me. I stopped at one. It was a group family photo of my parents, my sisters, and I. But, with one addition, my older brother Matthew. I stopped looking at the picture; he just turned seventeen, the biggest grin on his face as he held a ten-year-old Valeria on his shoulders. I was fifteen in this photo, and Veronica was thirteen. They took it a few days before a demon, unfortunately, killed Matthew. The grins on our faces reminded me we had a happier life before that, and we have a semi-fortunate experience now, but; Matthew's time had been cut short. Valeria became quiet after Matthew's passing; I stepped into the role of protecting and taking care of everyone. While Veronica took the part of making sure I kept myself together. Standing behind us, respectively, our parents, Wyatt and Valeria Halliwell.

I blinked, clenching my jaw, stepping away from the photo, and opening the old brown oak door to the bathroom. My finger flicked the light switch on as I closed the door before me. The wallpaper is an unappealing pink color, with a matching sink and cabinet, specs of white color formed to neutralize the pink color. I wasted no more time in my thoughts and pulled back the same purple and white flower pattern shower curtain. That has been on the shower bars for nearly two decades—turning on the water from the faucet, twisting the old fashion knobs to make the water the temperature I liked. I went over to the two-decade-old sink that has run just as long. Looking at myself in the mirror, my face covered in black goo, it grossed me out just thinking about it.

I peeled off the strained goo clothes and threw them in a plastic bag, knowing that the clothes were going to be thrown away. Life in the household ends up either throwing out attire or being ruined by blood or goo from demons and monsters. Or you got lucky, and your outfit stayed spotless.

Once wholly finished with the bathroom, I made my way into my room. Closing the dark color oak door behind me and I gathered clothes to put on. My room was unique from the rest of the house; the walls painted with ivory white, Polaroid photos taped around a mirror above an eight-drawer dresser. A vase was full of sunflowers next to potted aloe vera and vials with different dried herbs sealed inside. My bed had the same old bed frame but a new mattress with white and light crème color bed sheets. A string of lights hang above my barred headboard, and dry flowers taped underneath the lights—a matching white nightstand next to my bed with a lamp sitting peacefully on top. Surrounded by some different color crystals, on top of my bed were a bunch of college textbooks. I covered the original floor with a light yellow rug underneath my bed. A crème colored small bookshelf on the opposite side of my bed, packed with old and new books, the light aroma of lavender surrounded the room, smoothing my thoughts and keeping me calm as I dressed in loose, comfortable clothes.

Feeling the fresh fabric on my skin, I yawned before sitting on top of my bed, pulling a notebook and one of my textbooks closer to me. Pushing one of my pillows behind me, taking a pen in my hand, and writing notes in my notebook.

**************************************

The sunlight shone through the windows and onto stone floors made of yellow with red stripes around the room. Smooth columns laid against red paper walls, scattered around are old bookshelves and tables, stacks of ancient tomes and books with fragile scrolls surrounded by candles that were no longer lit. A deep yawn sound coming from a woman with long brunette hair, her slender fingertips going over the spins of old books, her deep dark brown eyes scanning through the names.

"Perhaps I can help you find what you are looking for?" An elderly voice said behind the woman as he set down a pile of books on an empty spot on a table.

The woman looked back behind her before smiling happily towards the elder, known to the school of Magic as Headmaster Leo Wyatt. He was wearing casual wear for even a headmaster, but it suited him. However, for this woman, he’s known as her grandfather.  
Valeria Halliwell is the younger sister of Vanessa and Veronica Halliwell; she isn't the youngest grandchild of Leo Wyatt and Piper Halliwell; however, that reminded their cousin Prudence, she is the youngest and only daughter of Chris and Bianca Halliwell.

Valeria has light brown hair matching with stunning blue eyes, almost matching her father's and grandfather's blue eyes. She was wearing just jeans, a floral top with a light cover-up. 

"I'm looking for anything related to the demon Nessie fought last night," Valeria quietly said as she looked back at the spins of old books in front of her.  
Something felt different about the demon they faced; it could injure Veronica pretty easily, an uneasy feeling playing with her mind and stomach.  
"Ah," Her grandfather spoke before moving closer to the bookshelf himself, scanning the ancient tomes and old books with her grandchild. 

Leo matched his wife's age, white hair with wrinkles to signage the passage of time. That never stopped how proud he was in his children, and it moved to his grandchildren. He fully knew how Valeria worried for her sisters after the passing of his grandson, Matthew. This life showed its ugly features before she could fathom the world of what good it could bring by fighting the evils that plagued it.

Leo did not doubt in his mind either that the new raising of powerful demonic forces has put him and his wife, Piper, on edge.  
 _Each generation of Warren witches would grow stronger_. He recalled the vow Melinda Warren prophesied before being burned at the stake. Though, he believed it would have stopped at the Charmed Ones. However, with his first son's birth, it started making since destiny had unique plans for the Warren line. Including the births of his nieces, Phoebe Halliwell's daughters, mixed with Cupid powers and witch powers.

Only moments as these made him wish he was still a whitelighter to guide them on the right path, but his position as headmaster, teaching them during their lives, and his love for his wife Piper, this out weighted that wish. His faith in their whitelighter and Aunt Paige helped ease him.

He shifted his complete focus on the matter at hand to help his granddaughter find what she was looking to discover. It proved challenging but rewarding as they found the book that held particular information on the demon they were researching. The Book of Shadows, a powerful and most wanted spellbook in the world, held answers but not all of them.

Valeria grasped the dusty ancient book in her hands before walking towards a table. Before she reached the hard surface, she opened the book carefully; the pages dried and fragile. This book hadn't been opened in centuries, maybe even eons ago. She set the book on the table carefully, turning the papers softly until she found a painted picture of the demon her sister fought last night.

The painting formed black ink next to cursive writing; they hooded the figure with chipping of facial features from its face, with lightly white ink to make the illusion of drool from its mouth. Valeria's fingers softly brushed against the words as she read them to herself. Before stopping on a sentence and then looking at her grandfather.

**************************************

I barely made it to class on time, let alone pass the test. If it weren't for my Grams waking me up, I would have slept through my alarm. Shoving a textbook into my backpack as I walked down the campus stood tall as an old building, renovated to match the needs of the students; there were three buildings, two of them for housing and the last one being the main building for classes; I didn't belong here; I didn't belong most anywhere, except, of course, the magical world and all of its charms. I only attended college out of my elder family members' wishes to have a life outside of protecting the innocence daily.

Community colleges were everywhere in this city; it surprised me that at least one accepted me; my classes are studies of dead languages and mythology. The people here were friendly and inviting; it was nice because the college was close to the Manor. Just in case something supernatural happens. But it piqued my interest; the more I learned about the mythos and the legends of different stories, I realized that the entire world is knowledge for saving innocent lives and weird battles.

The afternoon sun was beaming down as I made my way to my next class before a hand touched my forearm, stopping me in my tracks. Without looking up, I instantly took the wrist, using the weight to my advantage as I twisted and moved to attack before halting. Realizing who stopped me, I blinked, confused, before letting go.

"Sam?" I questioned, tilting my head slightly; he smiled warmly towards me before shaking off the grab.  
"Didn't know witches go to school," A deep rough voice said, and my eyes moved to look at the source. 

  
It was dark last night for sure, but the man next to Sam was his brother, Dean. I clenched my jaw, looking around to see if anyone heard before rolling my eyes, shaking my head, turning away from them.  
I wasn't in the mood to talk to hunters, and I would not let a school this small hear a loud mouth man proclaiming to the whole campus that I'm a witch. I started walking away from both of them before Sam once again stopped me.

"We just want to talk," Sam calmly said; there was a hint of glare in his eyes as he looked at his brother before back at me, his facial features becoming soft and innocent.  
"I'm not talking here; if you want to talk to me, then you are going to have to wait until after 5 pm," I firmly said before moving to walk around Sam, and on my way to the next class that I was supposed to be there five minutes ago.  
"No, see, we don't have until 5 pm," The same deep voice said but with impatience.  
  


I stopped, turning to look at him, wearing an old leather jacket, plaid funnel underneath with a black shirt and old jeans to match his boots. I could also faintly make out a necklace around his neck, and he wasn't bad looking either.

"Oh," I said, crossing my arms, tilting my head lightly to the side. Nothing about this situation would end correctly, but there was no harm in a little fun.  
"And what are you going to do? Drag me out of here if I don't listen?" I playfully asked, giving a sly smile.  
That seemed to irritate him, as he stepped quickly forward and Sam got in between us.

"Just hold on," Sam demanded of Dean and me in his tracks.  
I could make out the slight clenching of Dean's jaw as he looked up at his brother and then shook his head, turning around. Sam turned to look over at me, and my eyes looked up at him.

"Dean's right, we don't have time. Is there any way you can talk to us for at least five minutes," Sam pleaded, turning his face into a puppy look my sisters knew all too well how to do.  
I sighed, looking away from him, then shook my head.  
"Follow me," I said, caving in and walking towards a building, opening a door leading inside; it was dark, but the natural light outweighs that. 

  
I walked down the hallway before going into a room I knew no one was going to be in; the room was dark, blinds were covering the windows but yet I could make out chairs and tables and the depth of the teacher's desk and the height of student decks in stadium-style ways.

After the brothers were inside the room, I closed the door and turned on the lights, lighting up the cover sheets over the teacher's desk and the student desks. I relaxed my shoulder, tilting it down to take off my backpack and setting it next to me. I couldn't be too careful around them, and I needed to make sure I was ready to defend myself. I loosen my arms, putting them to my sides, getting prepared just in case I needed to freeze them.

"So, talk, what's so important?" I asked as I watched them look around the classroom.  
Dean was the first to look at me, crossing his arms and glaring at me before leaning against the teacher's desk. I could tell he wasn't enjoying any of this.  
"Or are you just going to glare at me and assume I can read your thoughts?" I playfully said as I smirked towards Dean.  
Sam cleared his throat as I could see the air building in Dean's chest to say something sarcastic back to me.

"How much do you know about the monster you killed last night?" Sam asked, changing the subject, and I turned my eyes onto him.  
Stopping some intense tension between Dean and me, and I shrugged, giving a slight frown from a corner of my mouth and thinking back on what I know.

"Well, if I'm honest, not much," I recalled, putting my hand gesturing at them and folding my arms with one of my hands on my inner bicep and my hand upwards and pointing at them.  
"I'll humor you just this once and refer to it as a monster," I said, putting my hands back to my sides.  
"The monster was attacking innocent lives, and we were protecting one of them until the monster attacked the Manor. My sister got hurt; I did what any older sister would do, and I went after it," I recalled moving into the room, looking at the covered student desks.  
A low chuckle came from Dean as he looked at his lap as I looked back at him, his eyes looking at the floor as he stood up straight and looked up at me.

"You see here, sweetheart, that monster you blow up is a netherwraith. It doesn't die that easily; in fact, you pissed it off," Dean said as I turned around, and he came up closer to me.  
He was taller than I was; of course, I only stood 5'7, and these brothers were at least 6'1 to taller.  
I had to tilt my head up to look him in the eyes; the lightning made his eyes look almost greenish. Dean would practically be my type if he weren't out to shoot me when my back was turned.

I narrowed my eyes, and he looked down at me. Luckily, my Uncle Henry taught me how to remain calm and collected. In situations as intimidating as this one—keeping my shoulders steady as I moved my hands behind me to fiddle with my fingertips.  
Dean had light stubble on his face, covering a faint impression of a double chin. Laugh lines pressured in his face, his face firm and stern; there was no smiling at least towards me. At least to my mind, I wouldn't lie that attraction is what I was feeling, the feeling of butterflies in my stomach, and the little pump gaining speed in my heart. I was almost afraid he might hear the beating of my heart, but I was more intrigued by what he would do if he did.  
  
"We do our research, and it turns out. That netherwraithes are rare; in fact, they are nearly damn extinct. But, every so often, they awake, and can you guess what they come after?" Dean said, deeply stern, stopping in front of me as he stared down at me.

"Oh, let me guess," I impishly said, putting my finger on my chin, making my eyebrows move together to create the illusion that I'm seriously thinking it through before brushing my finger off the bottom of my jaw and snapping my fingers.  
"A strong cup of coffee, I know after a long nap, I always need a good cup of joe," I roguishly said, my mouth moving into a cheeky grin.  
I may have crossed the line as he grabbed the sides of my arms; I didn't even think there was a wall behind me but, either it appeared, or he just moved me that fast because I felt a hard surface on my back, a little painful shock filled my body a bit. Maybe it wasn't painful to say it was more of a shock, I almost was going to say something frisky, but considering that he had me pinned up against the wall, I bit my tongue.

"People are dying because this thing is after you, so please give me the benefit of the doubt that my brother is right and you aren't some wicked witch causing all of this," Dean said in a harsh voice; Sam quickly grabbed his shoulder trying to stop his brother.  
I took a breath before moving my arms to break the connection of Dean holding me against a wall.

"Give me the benefit of the doubt of not always knowing what attacks me on the daily. I see a lot of monsters, Dean. Many of them want me dead, and if you want me dead, to get in line. Don't forget I'm one protector of the innocent while still being human. Mistakes happen, and unfortunately, the outcome of that mistake is losing an innocent, or worse, family. I'm not the only one here that has lost something, and I own too many of them to be better," I said; my grin was gone, my face severe and stern, matching his.  
I pushed to the side to get away from the wall and Dean. Going back the way I came, picking up my backpack.

"If it's alive, I'll vanquish it," I said before opening the door and slamming it on my way out, wasting no time, hurrying my way down the hallway.  
Ignoring the calls from Sam and going outside before fast-moving across the grass towards a building I knew had people inside.

Shutting the door behind me and holding onto the handle, looking down the empty hallway, taking a shaky breath, calming myself down. I needed to before I blew something up; I started doing breathing exercises my Grams taught me as I moved towards the stairs and climbed them to go to my next class.  
I put my fingers to my forehead, grabbing onto the railing; I felt dizzy, my entire body feeling weak as I forced myself to turn, seeing the hooded figure standing with its hand pointing at me. Must be one of its powers; it was a challenge to raise my hand to blow it away. However, it was a struggle to stand straight; the next thing I realized was falling onto the stairs.

The dizziness got worse, and my vision was getting blurred. The last thing I remember was seeing a distorted figure and then darkness. 

**************************************

"Let me get this straight; it's a demon that steals the powers of witches while devouring their soul?" Veronica asked, slowly sitting upon an old white-flowered chair in the sitting room of the Manor.  
Her brown hair wrapped in a ponytail while she stared unbelievingly at her younger sister Valeria sitting in front of her with the old book she discovered.

"Our ancestor Evanore, I'm talking before Melinda in like 800 BC, fought this demon, imprisoning it in the deepest darkest part of the Underworld. This demon predates the Book of Shadows and our first known ancestor," Valeria said, moving her eyebrow up as she sat on the matching sofa in front of her sister as her grandparents walked in.

Piper sat a tray of tea on the coffee table and moved to sit in her recliner chair. Leo hung up the phone and looked at the girls in the room. It riddled concern on his face as he sat down next to Valeria. 

"Well, that was Phoebe, she hasn't seen a premonition about this demon, but she's going to gather Prue and Paige to come to the Manor; who knows, we might need the old power of three," Leo said, nodding his head as his granddaughters looked up at him.  
"What about Vanessa?" Veronica concernedly asked, before groaning in pain as she grabbed her side.  
"You don't move," Piper warned her granddaughter, pointing at Veronica; Veronica relaxed, laying still.  
"I couldn't reach her, must still be in school," Leo softly said, looking down at the coffee table. "We just have to wait until she gets home," He sighed, worried plaster on his face.

"I'm sure Vanessa is just fine," Piper said, keeping hope and optimism up as she reached over to hold her husband's hand.  
"In the meantime, we should discover ways of vanquishing this demon, or imprisoning it," Piper said, looking at her husband before her two grandkids.  
"Wyatt!" She called, and the soft light of blue and white turned brighter to form two figures, a male and a female. 

One figure was tall and slim but still well built. His hair shaved on either side, revealing a brunette color, while the neatly groomed part was a light blonde. He wore regular jeans, a t-shirt underneath a jacket, and his arm wrapped around a woman's waist. Before looking at Piper, giving a friendly smile. 

"Mom," He said calmly and looked at Veronica lying on the couch before letting go of the woman. The friendly smile started turning into a stern and worried face.

The man's name was Wyatt Halliwell, the firstborn son of Piper Halliwell and Leo Wyatt; he is Vanessa, Veronica, and Valeria Halliwell's father; as Wyatt quickly went over to Veronica's side, he raised his hands, yellow light appeared underneath his palms and fingers. 

The woman had curly dark brown hair with light brown eyes and sparkly deep brown eyes. She wore a loose shirt with ripped up pants and low, raising boots. She looked at Veronica before making her way over to her and then looking at the elderly in the room before her eyes fell on Valeria. She had been relieved if she didn't realize that Vanessa wasn’t home. 

"Where's Nessa?" The woman asked, keeping her voice calm and collected, placing her hand on top of her chest, and she was counting numbers in her head to keep her calm. The woman named Valencia; is the mother of Wyatt's kids and the love of his life. 

Valencia's thumb traced the back part of her engagement ring and wedding band as she nervously waited for anyone to answer her question. There were questions and scenarios in her mind that were making this matter worse for comfort. While she trusted her eldest daughter would be okay and that she would walk through the Manor's front doors any minute, she's a mother first, and that included worrying over all of her children.

The glow from Wyatt's hands disappeared, and Veronica could sit up correctly. Veronica smiled towards her father, and he returned a soft one as he placed his hand on the side of her face, still checking her over to make sure he healed everything. 

"Mom, Nessie's fine; she's at school," Valeria said, standing up and placing a hand on her mother's arm to comfort and calm her down.  
"You don't normally call us if it isn't important," Valencia said. The comfort of her youngest daughter was smoothing, but she had a bad feeling in the back of Valencia's mind. 

"Valencia's right; you don't normally call us," Wyatt said, looking at the people in the room after he was sure his daughter was, in fact, okay.  
He stood up and looked at his parents, the look of worry wrinkling his facial expression.  
"There's an ancient demon, years ago, that our ancestors locked away; it goes after witches, steals their souls, but also devours their souls," Piper said, carefully standing up to look up at her son, explaining the situation at hand. 

Each of them always knew the risks of fighting an unknown source of evil, but, lately, the sources have been getting stronger. It had been a while that this household had opposed such a deadly enemy. Wyatt moved away from his mother, gazing up at him before settling on the armrest of the couch, putting his hand on his forehead and scratching it.

"The demon will not wait; if it's been locked away for so long, not just any witch is going to satisfy its hunger. Chances are it'll go after one of us, and since Vanessa was the prime source of attacking it, it'll go after her, at school or at home," Wyatt spoke clearly and wiped his face down with his hand before resting it on his lap.  
"With her ignoring my calls, I can try sensing her whereabouts while you girls scry for her," Wyatt said, already having a game plan on what needs to be done. 

Valeria and Veronica stood up and processed to climb the old stairs to the attic, while Valencia gripped her husband's shoulders before rubbing them.  
"We'll find her," She encouraged before placing a kiss on his cheek and following her daughters up the stairs.

Wyatt stood up and looked at his parents before sitting on the ground crisscross and closing his eyes and focusing on his eldest daughter's whereabouts. 

**************************************

My head felt as if drums were playing inside; every once in a while, there was a sharp pain as if something were stabbing it; it took me a second before opening my eyes and seeing a ceiling I haven't seen before. Seeing a fan in the center of the room and I looked around, seeing a single bed, then down where I saw a single bed underneath me.  
Before, I quickly sat up and felt a sharp pain in my chest. I was putting my hand on my chest, ignoring it and moving my legs off of the bed.

"That's as far as I would move," Dean's voice said, followed by a click of metallic. I looked over at him; the old leather jacket was behind him; he had a handgun in his hand and set it on the table in front of him. Probably to show he would not kill me. 

"Oh, and what are you going to do if I continue to move?" I asked, my voice hoarse as I looked away from him and towards the window that had blinds pulled; I placed my feet on the floor and put my hands on either side of my temples.  
I focused on the carpet on the ground, trying to push the pounding in my head away. Someday, I wished to have the power of Telekinesis so I could move my headache out of my mind. I don't know what to focus on with the pain, the throbbing chest pain, or the throbbing migraine.

"Here," Dean said reluctantly, I didn't even hear him come over, but the glass of water next to my face proved it was the truth.  
I looked up at him and the glass of water. He tilted his head to match my facial expression of doubt.  
"Look, if I wanted you dead, you would have already been dead. Besides, it'll help with the headache," He said, still holding the glass of water for me to take it.

I looked at the glass of water, and I reluctantly took the glass of water from him. It was a second, but our fingertips touched, and the back of my neck shot up with a static, shocking feeling before we broke the touch. I looked back at the carpet holding the glass of water in my hand before taking a drink and setting it on the end-table next to me. He was right; my migraine seemed to die down to a bearable pain. I started trying to recall what happened; the conversation with the brothers I remember very well, but the stairway is where it gets fuzzy.

"Why?" I asked, tilting my head to look back at Dean; I knew for sure that somehow both of them ended up saving me from the Netherwraith.  
"It wasn't out of the kindest of my heart," Dean said, shrugging and moving away from me, sitting back in his seat. The light impressions of his jaw clenched as he picked up the handgun before wiping it down with a cloth.   
"Hm," I mumbled before raising my hands, flickering them in the air; Dean instantly froze, not covered in ice but made the illusion of frozen in time.  
The cloth barely reaching the item in his hand, I quickly stood up and looked at the hotel's main entrance, with the map just in case there was a fire. I moved as soon as possible. In the current state, I was in, I doubt I could hold my freezes for long. Before I could touch the doorknob, I stopped myself, patting myself on my head.  
"What are you doing," I whispered to myself as I allowed the light blue and white orbs to surround me. 

I appeared in familiar surroundings, my room. Once the light stopped forming around my body, the smelt of lavender instantly flowed through my sense of smell, relaxing me. If I was honest with myself, that's probably not going to win points from the brothers. But, if I was more realistic, this would probably be the only time I see them. I pushed the thoughts out of my head and walked out of my room, running into my mother. 

"Mom," I blurted, and my eyes widened at her presence. To which I received a hug from her, squeezing me with all of her might.  
"Mom?" I asked, this time a little more concerned.  
She and dad are supposed to be off on a much-needed vacation, and my sisters and I were supposed to be the ones vanquishing the evil in their absences. This seemed to switch her mood as she pulled away from her hands, still on my arms, and looking me in the eye.

"You were supposed to call us if something went wrong," She said, using her overly protective motherly voices to which I tilted my head slightly—raising my hand, making my fingers pinch to help me build a point.  
"It was a slight mistake," I said, fidgety, and looked at the original floorboards to keep my eyes from making contact.  
"Only one thing went wrong, but I handled it," I said, trying to find self-confidence. It was one thing to be scolded by Grams, but another from one's mother.  
Something about getting in trouble with your parents makes you feel small, no matter how old you are. A parent's scolding wrath is undoubting the most petrifying of them all.

My eyes fell onto my mother for just a second; I could tell by the outline of her raised eyebrow and her mouth straight that she was fuming with both anger and relief.  
She sighed, removing her hands from my arms as footsteps quickly came up behind her. My father stopped standing as what most considered a tower. He looked at my mother as she stepped to the side; he looked back at me, folding his arms into each other and stepping towards me.

"You don't do things alone; you stay with your sisters; that's the agreement we all made," His tone of voice was stern and caused me once again to look down at the floorboards.  
It was always different when dad was the one to scold us. His only son got murdered by a bunch of demons when his first daughter couldn't even stop it from happening.  
It fell to me to protect myself and what I do. I wasn't home when Veronica had been attacked; I was at a brainless college party they pressured me into going to. 

And then, to top it all off, I went after the demon alone, didn't have my sisters backing me up, and I could have died today if it wasn't for those brothers. It didn't excuse my actions, and I felt terrible about it; I was just fearful of Valeria getting injured if she came with me. I didn't know what to say; an apology wasn't exactly the best way to make up for the trouble I got into with my parents. I've always been the wild card; ever since Matthew died, I acted out during the rest of my teen years, and now, it's leading me down a path that I might not come back from.

But someone in this family had to be the powerhouse of them and the most likely to die in protecting them. And I just picked that it was going to be me and no one else. 

"You want to know what is after you," My father's booming voice brought me out of my train of thoughts, and I sighed, looking up at my dad.  
"A netherwraith," I answered, and he looked at my mother before looking at me, replacing her hand on my arm.  
"How did you know that?" My mother questioned, and I looked away from her, clenching my jaw slightly a bit.  
"It's not really friendly, attacked me while I was at school," I informed them, leaving out the part of two hunter brothers in San Francisco but, I fully believed that once this was all over, my parents might end up vanquishing me. 

"It attacked you at school," My father said, filled with fretfulness moving closer to me. He was checking for any signs of damage I may have received from the attack.  
He was raising his hand above my forehead, summoning the yellow light. I felt better; the migraine was nearly gone, and the chest pains that I had been neglecting disappeared.  
The light from my father's hand disappeared, and he sighed, crossing his arms again.

"How did you escape, you're powerful, but you still have much to learn," My father broke the silence, and I saw a quick light backhand by my mother on my father's arm.  
From time to try, she did that as a warning to help guide him in a more fatherly understanding way. But, most of the time, my father was right.

No, I wasn't as powerful as him or even Grams or Great Aunt Prue. Or even Matthew. My elders were always more powerful. I know my father is the twice-blessed child, one of the most powerful beings in the world. His duties to the greater good sometimes felt as if they matter more to him than his family. But that was never the case; it endangered the second one of us; he was the first to resolve it.

"Honey, what your father means is that this demon is mighty," My mom whispered and sweetly as she turned her attention to me as she gave a warning look towards her husband.  
"We are just worried about you; the demon devours the soul while taking a witch's power," She said, putting her arms around me, turning me towards the attic, and smiling softly. 

This was encouragement and nurturing in her own way. Most kids would have a mother telling them that demons and monsters don't exist in the world, and the only monstrous thing I would face would be a bad cup of coffee on a dreadful morning. We walked over the over rug that matched nearly all the upper floor and stairwell. Short stairs were leading up to the attic, and I put my hand on the back of my neck as I pulled away from my mom. The bewildered look on my mother's face appeared, and I smiled quickly at the small one.

"Then, I'm sure you'll handle it. A powerful demon, powerful parents. It'll make the newspapers in the magical world," I said, dispirited in my face and in my tone of voice.  
"I screwed up. There's no denying that fact. Maybe it'll be best if I don't fight the netherwraith," I said, the familiar discouragement I always felt when my parents were around. 

Whenever my parents got involved, I always felt small, distant from my heritage. I was born a witch, a good witch, but that was decided for me long before I was born. And I never asked for it, and I never asked to be the responsible oldest out of the family tree. They didn't have to tell me it disappointed them in me; I could tell by the looks on their faces and by the tones of voices. I was good at that reading people became second nature to me. I knew instantly what someone was thinking about me before they even thought of it. Aunt Phoebe told me I was probably also destined to be an Empath, but that would be later on as my powers grew.

"You know, I'm still a little worn out from the whole attack; I think I should just lay down for a bit," I said, dissolving the situation and turning away from my mom before going back into my room, closing the door behind me. 

My fingertips moved to rub the top of my forehead as I looked at my surroundings. If this was a powerful demon and involves my father, then that means my Great Aunts will be here soon. And with their arrival, Aunt Phoebe would tell me I'm hiding something. I raised my hands and flickered, destroying one of the potted plants in my room and instantly regretting it. 

**************************************

"I can't believe she freaking froze me," Dean said, irritated, as he slammed something before Sam raised his hands to calm his brother down.  
"Dean, we probably scared her. You were cleaning a gun in front of her. She probably didn't know what to do and did the only thing she knew best," Sam peacefully said as he rose from his seat on one of the single beds.

Dean was standing, pacing around the room, shaking his head. How could they trust her? How could they imagine a witch being good? A witch, for god’s sake, hex bags, spell casting, working with demons witch.  
He took a single deep breath; Sam had points; Vanessa wasn't an evil witch; in fact, all the evidence and witnesses they talked to proved that the Halliwell's weren't wicked witches. Hell, she even saved Sam, healed him is what he described to Dean. Which is the only reason Vanessa was alive, Sam guessed?

"Still, she didn't have to freeze me," Dean said, more relaxed than before sitting down himself.  
"Do you feel any different?" Sam asked, curious about the experience to which he received his famous done face.

"Yes, Sam, I feel like a completely different man," Dean sarky crossing his arms, looking away from his brother.  
"I don't know; it was five minutes at tops, but it's just one minute she was here, and the next she wasn't," He said, disorientated, rubbing the side of his head. 

Sam moved over to the table where a light green college backpack was sitting on it. Sam looked at it for a second, debating what he was going to do. Vanessa was in trouble, and these two may just be the only hope she has.  
He grabbed Vanessa's backpack, pulling it close to him and opening the contents of the bag. His eyebrows were pushing together as he took out the textbooks.

 _**Mythology. Latin. History. Lore.** _ _  
_These weren't exactly the textbooks he thought she would study. He raised Mythology to show his brother, turning around looking at him and his face as he pieced it together.

"Well, she takes classes what I inspected for a witch," Dean derisively standing up himself and walking over to the table looking at the textbooks.  
Picking up her notebook, flipping through it. He would have been almost impressed if most of the notes in this book were accurate. He closed the notebook and set it down.  
"So, what she's a college student for mythology, means nothing," Dean said, puzzled by what his brother was onto.

"Dean, her lineage is generations of Witches dating back to at least 1670. Maybe even further than that. Suddenly, a netherwraith appears out of how long? Centuries? Isn't it weird that she's studying Greek Mythology roughly around the time Ancient Greece was around? And then this monster comes out?" Sam said, disentangled the clues surrounding this piece of a puzzle.

"Netherwraiths predate back to the starting of time," Dean said, following along for what they discovered.  
"Okay, so super witch here is linked to a powerful witch back in Ancient Greece, and this thing wants revenge," Dean unraveled more pieces of the puzzle, looking at his brother for taking another look at the content in the bag.  
"We need to find the Manor and fast," Sam said, turning back to look at the contents, trying to find any clue that might lead them to the whereabouts of Vanessa. 

**************************************

I winced at the piece of the shard that carved into my skin—throwing it away in a bag, picking up from the explosion I did early.

"Oh, honey, it's okay," My gentle-voiced Great Aunt Phoebe said, placing a fresh pot next to me as she carefully took the plant and replanted it.  
I felt a light rub on my back after she finished pressing on the dirt. How age refused to play a part in her amazed me, and I wished that would be me in my old years. 

Phoebe's hair wrapped in a messy bun with comfortable clothes as she smiled just as sweetly. My Great Aunts were more like second mothers to me, just like Grams. While I was close with Grams, I was also close to Phoebe. It helped me understand most of what I was going through, and I could feel everything I felt, which ended up getting me out of a lot of dangerous situations in high school.

It's because of her, I rarely drank alcohol, and my high school friends made it to college. But I inherited one thing from her, and that was the horrible magnetic attraction of attracting bad boys. She placed the new potted plant on my dresser as I continued to clean my floor of dirt and shards of clay pots. 

"Are you going to tell me what all of this is about?" Phoebe asked, trying to dig for information. She could only feel what I'm feeling but not read my thoughts. At least I hope not, I sighed, making a pile of dirt, trying to think of anything that would get me out of this.

"Oh, that bad, huh," Phoebe breathed as she sat on the side of my bed, looking around my room.  
This was her room before moving out; I stopped what I was doing, sitting entirely on the floor.  
"I'm feeling concerned, blaming yourself, hiding something, regret, and a hint of attraction," She said calmly before putting a little more depth on attraction.

I turned my head to look at Phoebe before standing up, crossing my arms, and sitting down next to her. The words were all in my head, but finding my voice was a lot more challenging to muster up. I took a deep breath as I felt the warmth of my Aunt rub my back. She always knew how hard it was for me to talk about anything.  
I still could talk about things, but I felt as if I was losing my voice with every passing day. There was so much that I couldn't muster to talk about, I was more surprised than I could think about them.

"I understand that going in alone was a bad idea, but all I thought of when I found out that Veronica got hurt, and I wasn't there to stop it, my body moved before I couldn't even stop it," I said, in an isolated voice shaking my head slightly.  
"We face evil every day. Some of them aren't as powerful as this, and I know that, but she's my little sister. Everyone in this household seems to believe that the firstborn is the one with all the situations and problem-solving ideas. And I tried solving it, in my own way, and now I may have exposed us to more hunters," I impatiently said, feeling half of everything on my mind to release into one go.  
Before I could flicker my hands once more, Phoebe grabbed them, stopping the future of blowing something up. 

"Oh, sweetheart," Phoebe's smooth voice said, pulling me in for a hug.  
"You know what? I think you care about your sisters, always there for them in a pinch, you are always there for any of us, and evil is just mad because they know a fearless witch lives. You symbolize the most of all of Halliwell's, pure, passionate, and fiercely loyal good witch," She softly and encouragingly as possible as I rested my head on her shoulder.

"The oldest fire back first, and you believe it's a curse, or you can believe it's a blessing; the choice of the matter is how you see fit," She continued softly, rubbing my arm to comfort me.  
"As for the hunters, we'll figure out how to send them on their way, without harming them, of course, and they'll just think it's a bad dream," She explained as she pulled away slightly to look at my facial features.  
"Unless you don't want that, after all that hint of attraction," She said, wiggling her finger towards my face.

My cheeks turned a light rosy color, and I instantly hid my face before hearing the doorbell rang. I looked at my door, and my Aunt put up her hand to signage that this conversation wasn't over as I got up and briskly walked away. I gathered my hair together to interlace in a ponytail as I walked down the stairs.

I could hear the muffled conversation in the sitting room, and once more a ring at the doorbell. Before glimpsing at my parents' were an in-depth conversation with my Great Aunts, Prue and Paige, and my grandparents. My father looked at me with one of his arms folded underneath the other elbow resting in the palm of its hand as his other arm was raised.  
I could tell that they were busy discussing the demon of the week and that I probably was tasked with opening the door. I gave a sigh before walking over to the front door, where again another ring of the doorbell.

Grasping the dark strain copper doorknob and opening it. Sam stood there with an innocent look on his face while his brother, Dean, looked beyond furious, to which I forced a smile.

"Sam, Dean, now's not a good time," I said, restraining myself from drawing attention from any of my family members in the sitting room.  
I pressed my lips together, debating whether I should freeze and shut the door and perhaps get my dad raising no alarm to anyone.

"We just want to help," Sam said, well-mannered. It was his way of trying to get at least some room of trust between the two.  
My face fell still as if to create the facials of not buying it at all. It wasn't me not believing they could help; it was like the less they knew about my family, the better. 

"And what makes you think I need help?" I asked, just wanting to entertain this entire thing for a moment.  
I kept my hand tightly around the doorknob as I put my other hand resting on the smooth strain wood that met the other door and held it closed.

"Nessa," My father's voice said, seriously behind me, and I moved my head to look behind me but to keep the brothers in my peripheral vision.  
I held up my fingers and flicked them once again, causing them to go into a temporal stasis. As I gave my father my undivided attention, he had his arms completely crossed, and I got to see my Aunt Phoebe walk into the sitting room to join the rest of the elders. My freezes work on most things, but never on good witches.

"Hunters?" He said sighing. Disappointment was not a word in my father's vocabulary, but sometimes it could be his voice tone.  
He walked up towards me, viewing the two brothers before finally looking at me.  
"Let them in; they may know some information we don't; we could use it," My father said, displeased, riddling in his tone of voice as he moved slightly back.

I gave a slightly annoyed sigh before waving my hand in front of the brothers. To which they looked surprised at the sudden movement of my father next to me. Dean looked at my dad, puzzled, then looking at me.

"You froze us again?" He asked, annoyed, and his eyes narrowed into glaring at me, and I gave a shrug.  
"She does that when she doesn't trust outsiders," My father's voice was stern as I put my hand on my cheek and turned around, chewing the inside of my cheek lightly to avoid fidgeting with anything else as I walked away.  
"You wanted to help, then help," Wyatt said as he watched his daughter walk away. I was then looking back at the two men standing in the Manor's doorway. 

I got half-way to the opening into the sitting room and scratched the back of my neck, not meeting the eyes of my family members. It was the touch on my forearm that my Great Aunt Prue was staring down at me. The worry wrinkles were more developed than the rest, and the gray hair matched her elderly features with more formal grandmotherly clothing.

"We will talk about this later," Prue said, her stern tone of a voice whispered, and my eyes fell to the floorboards as the heavy footsteps followed into the sitting room before the shut of the door. 

"Let's get one thing straight. Quickly and on the same page of everything, you think about harming anyone of my family members, and the outcome will not be favorable for any of us," Prue said, looking up at the brothers standing with a bit of a shocked face.  
Prue is the oldest in the room and the most powerful of the Halliwell's currently. She has always been the bravest and most reliable of her sisters, and she proved it every time she faced an unknown source of evil.

"I'll make some more tea," Piper said, calmly and slowly standing up from her seat, not as fast as she used to be but still with ease.  
"Vanessa, will you help an old lady," My Grams said, and touched my forearm and pulled me away from her older sister.

It was only a glance, but I could make out the facial expressions of my Aunt Phoebe, and she tilted her head with a smile of something I could only feel like a bad feeling. Which only caused the smile a little bigger.

"Uh, with all due respect, we are here to help Vanessa," Sam said, peacefully as possible, to which Phoebe smiled as calmly as peaceful.  
"Don't mind Prue; she doesn't bite," Phoebe said as she looked mischievously at her eldest sister, to which Prue narrowed her eyes to add to the mischievous of her sister.  
Phoebe looked at the brothers as Piper took me into the kitchen. 

I watched Grams grab the kettle and started filling up with water as I sat at the table next to the window. The sun was going down, and I could hear the lighting of the stove. I felt pressure on my shoulder and looked up to see my mom.

"Honey, we talked about hunters," My mother's voice said, sitting down next to me as she kept her hand on her forearm.  
"We can't do our job if we have to worry about potentially getting hunted ourselves," She said, with a warning voice that I have heard plenty of time.

My mother let go of my forearm as heavy footsteps from work boots came towards the kitchen. I could tell she was tense by the sight of the brothers, but she had the same gift I had, except it worked mostly on objects and the actual timeline.  
They placed my college backpack before me as Sam sat across from my mother and me. Where Dean was in the room, I didn't even bother; I’m drained and very annoyed.

"Mythology is corresponding to you. Isn't witchcraft the same?" Dean asked as my mother raised up from the table, to which I took her wrist softly in mine to stop her.  
"Mythology is a way of a history of the supernatural world, and I prefer knowing who or what I'm blowing up, sometimes you can't always find what you are looking for in a big old family book," I said, tiredly as I leaned back in my seat. My mother looked at me; she gave me the look of being careful of what I would say.  
There were no playful remarks, no sarcastic comebacks as I was too tired of dealing with this situation altogether.

"We may have found out what is hunting you, and why it's after you," Sam said, clearing his throat as he saw his brother open his mouth, diffusing the sentence Dean was going to say and to carry on why they were here.  
I saw Sam take a deep sigh. He was tense, and I didn't blame him. My family can be very intimidating, especially Great Aunt Prue.  
"Excellent," My mother said, happy with a big smile on her face as she looked at Sam. "Please go on; the sooner we fight and get rid of this demon, the sooner we can pretend we don't exist," 

My mother was one thing. Very excitable is an excellent way of putting it. But she was also protective. While her husband is the second most powerful in this house, Valencia was there for her daughters for most of their nightmares and trouble. And she didn't predictably like hunters, not after the older hunter nearly killed her eldest daughter. Sam cleared his throat, getting more visibly uncomfortable as my mother was talking.

"Valencia, help me deliver the tea to the others," Grams said; I almost forgot she was preparing tea, which she placed a smaller portion on the table in front of me, but a bigger tray was still on the center kitchen island.

The petite kitchen was home to brown-beige counters and wooden tops. They made the cabinets of the same color with glass in the doors to see the contents inside. The cabinet closest to the older stove and oven held the contents of potion ingredients and housed other things like plates and cups, and bowls.  
They equipped the kitchen with everything a kitchen needed; they used the island stovetop for other places to cook, but mostly used for potion brewing. The fridge covered with old drawings and posters of plays was up against a wall leading into the mudroom that housed the laundry equipment and the backdoor. They painted the walls the same brown-beige as the counters and had wooden panels pointing towards the floor.

Behind me housed an old cupboard with the fancy cutlery and plates. And the door leading to the rest of the house had a single island filled with phone books and cooking books and an old lamp to help give light. A section in the wall that separated and could hold the door open was cut open with shelves and housed coffee cups for easy access. 

Valencia looked at her daughter for a second before rising from her seat, obeying her mother-in-law, and helping her to the sitting room. When they left the kitchen, Dean closed the door to the rest of the house, so maybe not everyone would hear the conversation at hand. He then took the seat that Vanessa's mother was sitting in and looked around the kitchen.

"Before we get started a little ground rule, don't freeze again," Dean warned as he looked up at the ceiling and crossed his legs to relax at least some.

"Oh, that's the best part," I said, flickering my hand, freezing Dean still, and sighed, looking at Sam who's eyes went wider.  
"Is he always like that?" I asked, putting my hand on my cheek, and Sam slowly looked at me. He did his best to keep the impending threat of a smile and a chuckle.

"Yeah," Sam responded as he looked back at Dean.  
"But could you unfreeze him?" He asked as he was slightly enjoying it only slightly, though. I sighed and waved my hand again, unfreezing Dean and pressing my lips together, looking back out the window.

"Just tell me what you know," I said briefly before Dean could say anything.  
I wanted this over and done for; I was already in trouble of going off on my own and perhaps going to vanquish two hunters showing up randomly. I watched the sunlight fade in and out of the trees' leaves and fellow neighbor's house as the sun went down. 

Dean looked at his brother, and Sam looked back. This woman sitting in front of both of them seemed different from the woman they encountered earlier. Sam's face had a baffle written all over him. Dean was puzzled, and then he looked back at Vanessa. He was clearing his throat lightly.

"Well, we think maybe this netherwraith wants revenge," Dean started. His voice was surprising to him; it was gentler than he thought he would be. And he showed more confusion on his face as Sam looked at him, bemused at that.

"That's really nothing new," I aloofly said as I turned my attention to the tea set sitting on the pale light wooden table we all sat on.  
I was taking a cup and a saucer before pulling myself a cup. Even though I could only imagine my elder family arguing in the sitting room and debating whether to disturb the conversation I was having with the brothers. I couldn't help but stand to become standish in the matter. 

"I have an entire line of demons that want revenge on my family," I said, gently placing a single cube of sugar and a smooth line of cream in my tea as I stirred with one spoon. The wisps of steam rising with a sweet aroma of the black tea, my Grams only fixed with high tension, and we could all use some relaxation.  
"But, let's humor this for a second and say I don't know why it wants revenge," I steady said as the low sound of me lightly tapping my cup with the tiny metal spoon on its lid to dispersed little drops of tea on the spoon and back into the cup, then placing the spoon on the saucer.

"We think that your ancestor a long time ago imprisoned this netherwraith," Sam stated as he suddenly placed some papers on the table.  
"Netherwraithes aren't common; in fact, everyone thought they were extant," Dean chipped in, as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Digging up any facts on it is, is almost nearly impossible," 

"There are only a few sentences in Ancient Greece about these things, and it led us to a woman named Evanore; she was a powerful witch in her time," Sam said as he placed specific papers in front of me that looked to have been printed out at a library before stopping.  
"May I?" Sam asked, gesturing to the tea.

"Grams made it for all of us; it would be rude not to have tea," I courteously as I took a sip of my tea, blowing on it slightly before the liquid met my lips.

Sam took a saucer and a cup for himself. His brother gave him a stern glare. To which Sam only shrugged as he carefully poured the tea into the cup. I don't think Dean meant any disrespect, more of a powerful glare towards his brother. I sat down in my cup in the respectful home of its saucer, and I looked at Dean.

"You know, Grams has the same freezing power as I do; she might freeze you until you have a cup yourself, Dean," I mischievously said as I placed the third and final saucer and teacup in front of Dean.

Dean's facial features flickered back, looking at me in a shocking glare if you wouldn't dare. To which I smiled sheepishly at him. Despite his better judgment and Sam making a face of Dean needed to play nice, a huff from his chest rose and left. I took this as a sign of some obligation, a symbol of okay, but reluctantly, of course. 

I poured the black tea's liquid into the teacup and placed the pot that housed the rest of the drink back on the tray. Sam had taken some cream, but only a little, and Dean didn't add any of the contents to make it sweeter or lighter.

"Evanore was a powerful witch, yes, I know the story, she imprisoned a dark force, but what you don't ultimately know is for her to do that, she had to sacrifice her own soul to seal it away," I continued the conversation as Sam took a sip of his tea, Dean was investigating it. I didn't blame him; if I was in another witch's home, I would expect poison or something.  
"The tea will not hurt you, Dean; we aren't those kinds of witches," I added as I moved my backpack from the table to the floor.

"So, you know Evanore, then?" Sam asked as he placed the teacup back in his saucer. He was looking at me with interest in what I had to say about the subject at hand. 

"I did a paper on her my freshman year of college," I stated.  
It wasn't an excellent paper, but I got a decent grade on it with my fundamental knowledge of witchcraft. Nothing fridge worthy or grandparents boost pride in their friends.  
"Magic during that time was uncomfortably dark, practiced curses, love potions, personal gain nearly for all of it. I believed it's mostly the what you hunt daily,"

"Yet, according to the Book of Shadows, a newly risen witch has 48 hours to decide whether they wish to be good or to do harm. Evanore was the first count of this rule. Towards the ending of her grace period, she chose good Magic. As to balance the practices of the other witches during that time, and the Goddess Hecate visited her, to imprison the Netherwraithes for eternity," I recalled, the only reason I knew this and got a decent grade on the paper is that I used a little magic myself. 

Summoning a ghost to talk about their life was an exciting factor that I only used to help me understand the source of a term paper I was writing; it's best to ask directly from the source instead of hoping that a little page in a book could do. I only ever used it once, to summon and talk to Evanore. However, my parents let me summon Matthew on the days only an older brother could fix.

Perhaps today was one of them; making a mental note in summoning him later and talking about this, I stood up. When was the last time I ate? I don't recall eating at school, and it was only now realizing the low growl of my stomach.

I went over to the fridge, opening it to see inside the contents.  
"Continuing, Evanore did the work of the Gods', imprisoning the Netherwraithes. Of course, again with the price of her soul as the prison, Hecate must not have mentioned that part," I said, gazing inside, looking at the food being kept as fresh as possible before deciding to grab the bowl of blueberries Grams got from the farmer's market.

"How do you know all of this?" Sam asked, almost sounding impressed at the recall of Evanore and her story.  
Dean seemed to have other things on his mind, while I don't blame him. Stories like these get boring after a bit, and he seemed very focused on figuring out how I knew it before Sam. 

"I asked her," I asked if it was reasonable to do a thing; I shrugged, shutting the fridge door and returning to my seat.  
"And before you asked, I'm in my senior year of college, so raising her for a small chat is a little too late on that point," I said, casually placing the bowl of blueberries on the table.

"You summoned a ghost," Dean quietly, slowly said, as if he was calming himself.  
"As if it was another day at the office?" His eyebrows pushed together, his features a little too sharp as if he was about ready to pull Sam into another room and discuss ways of why all of what my family does is not okay.

"For me, it is, blowing up my version of monsters, is another day at the office. Nearly dying by a demon is another day at the office for me; I would imagine it's the same for you," I softly said, giving a small innocent smile to dissolve the problem.  
"What I do is different. It's not normal, but it's normal for us. Is it a little weird to be summoning a ghost in your attic for a conversation? Most likely. Is it weird that I can freeze things into place that make it look like it's frozen in time or that my entire family is some magical being? Yes. But, I think the weirdest thing I have had to happen so far is having tea with two hunters," I popped a blueberry in my mouth after pointing out things and watched Dean's facial expression turn neutral. 

He knew I was right, and it was kinda cute that he didn't know what to say. As if everything that needed to be said about this matter of a situation was said and done. I realized I felt like I knew these brothers my entire life, despite only knowing them for a day now. Sam seemed content because I was a witch and that the rest of my family are witches. He researched my entire family tree, which I still don't know how to handle that situation.

But Dean, on the other handed, seemed more guarded. That we were faking being good witches and, at any moment, would curse them. It ultimately convinced me that the only reason he was here and was, in fact, playing nice with this household of Magic was to protect his younger brother Sam. I couldn't blame him for his actions; I was the same way with my sisters.

How many times I had to play nice with a potential partner for one of my sisters. How we guarded until we were sure they weren't a warlock, or a demon was trying to get close enough to kill us all. I knew he didn't like it here, he acted, and I could tell he wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

"The only known source about Evanore was that little piece of the story you found," I said as I swallowed the blueberry. "It's not a lot to go on, especially writing a paper,"  
"You summoned a ghost to write a college paper; I thought you weren't supposed to use personal gain," Dean finally stated as he looked over at me.

"I got a C- if it makes you feel better," I recalled dully and bitterly, not towards Dean, mostly towards the grade I received, but, in a small way, it was personal gain, and that was the consequence. His eyebrows pushed together that showed it made him feel better about the situation. 

I pressed my eyebrows, concerned as I watched as the blue-white lights formed around Sam, and I looked at Dean that was witnessing the same thing. Before they were quickly gone and I stood up immediately, nearly knocking over the chair I was sitting in as it busts the kitchen door open by the hoodie creature that had attacked me in college. I knew the lights surrounding the brothers were orbs and that Aunt Paige probably orbed them to safety.

I didn't know where I would go, considering the only two-doors in here with me lead to the basement and the laundry. Before, I had the chance to decide what I was going to do and where I was planning on dying. I started feeling weak; it was getting difficult to stand, and gravity became heavier too, which I fell with my ass hitting the ground. 

The netherwraith had its hand up as it pointed at me, causing me to feel the same level of dizziness and weakness from before until it stopped, and I heard a crash in the laundry room and the loud shut of the door.

"Oh, Vanessa," I heard my sister's voice concernedly say as she grabbed my arm and helped me up.  
The world kept spinning, and I felt like I was going to puke up the blueberries and the tea as my sister pulled me away from the kitchen. She shouted in my ear, which made my entire head string with pain, and the next thing I knew, I was being lifted off of my feet; everything was spinning, everything was blurry again, and I ended up passing out as I heard the familiar sounds of the stairs. 

**************************************

The attic door slammed shut, and Veronica waved her hand. A small blue glow surrounded the door, and the three windows behind everyone. The attic was open but well cleaned. Some boxes housed family memories that wouldn't fit somewhere downstairs. A single stand was in the center of the room, with an open ancient book. This book was the famous Book of Shadows, everything the witches needed to fight their evil demon of the day. The pages were being quickly moved by Valeria, Vanessa's youngest sister.

Dean gently laid Vanessa on the old red sofa that was off to the stand's right-hand side. He wiped his face with his hand as he turned to his brother; Sam was watching as the elder witches talked amongst themselves as the woman from the kitchen went over to Vanessa, putting her palm on her daughter's forehead. 

"Wyatt," Valencia said, softly drawing the attention of her husband, who was also in the conversations with his aunts and parents.  
He understood instantly what his wife meant and, without a word, was there next to her—hovering his hands over his daughter, yellow glow underneath the palms.

"What's the plan? How are we going to vanquish this demon?" Veronica was the first to break the silence as her elder Aunts looked over at her.  
Phoebe and Grams weren't exactly sure how to word it, and Paige casually walked over to help Valeria with flipping through the book.

"Even with the original power of three, it was still not enough to vanquish it," Prue said, never the one to sugarcoat anything.  
"Vanessa mentioned about summoning the ghost of Evanore and discussing her past life," Sam suggested to the witches, to which Paige and Valeria looked at each other. Moving the pages again, some of them sticking to each other. 

Paige moved around the stand and waved her hand as six candles of white and purple formed a circle, a matchbox appearing in her hand, and with no time wasted, she began lighting the candles. Dean stepped slightly, crossing his arms to object.

"Are we sure summoning the dead is a good idea right now?" Dean asked, looking at his brother for some support before looking at Paige, who was still lighting the candles.

"Don't worry, the only spirits that harm us aren't the ones we summon," Paige said carefully as she lit another candle. "Besides, it may be the only way to save my niece,"

Dean glanced at Vanessa. She was still unconscious, and Wyatt was doing his best to continue healing her. To which Valencia was sitting on the ground down, looking almost defended and preparing for herself if her husband needed to tell her their daughter was dead. 

Wyatt almost felt defended; he knew he couldn't heal the dead. He refused; he knew the demon they were facing was extremely strong, more durable than himself and his elders. But, most of all, they refused to lose another child. He knew what was happening around him; he could only hope that vanquishing the netherwraith would restore Vanessa. Banging on the door started, proving to him that the netherwraith wasn't completely done.

With the last candle lit, Valeria stopped at the right page before Valencia stood up; despite the way she was feeling, she needed to support her daughters going to Valeria's side and taking her hand with her own as Veronica did the same. Paige moved to her own sisters, as Sam and Dean looked at each other and moved to the side where everyone seemed to be located. 

"Hear these words, hear my cry, spirit from the other side. Come to me, I summon thee, cross now the great divide," The three of them chanted as Wyatt kept his concentration on healing his daughter.

Three white sparks started forming in the center of the candle circle and created a circle. Her hair brown with light brown hair with darker brown for roots; she wore clothes in a fashion suited to bo-ho style but more of an artist. Loose colorful jewelry around her necklace and multiple rings on her fingers, she held a warm smile painted with glossy lipstick. She looked around the room before realizing Vanessa's on the couch unconscious and the two random men in the attic. 

"I take it this isn't a social call," She said, sighing, putting a hand on her hip. Slightly disappointed in her features, this woman was Penny Halliwell, Vanessa's great-great-grandmother, and the sisters' mentor as they faced their journey head-on. A loud pounding on the door brought Patty's attention to it, turning around to face the door.

"We were hoping to summon Evanore," Valeria mumbled, drawing Patty's face back to her own.  
"I'm afraid that Evanore has moved on," Patty drawled, debating almost to tell them the whole truth. Her eyes fell onto Vanessa's body before quickly back at her granddaughter.

However, Sam caught sight of Vanessa before tapping on Dean, pulling him to the side and as quietly as possible started revealing what the new elder seemed to talk about.

"Then how did Vanessa talk to her," Valeria questioned. Moving away from the book, Patty gave a sigh.

"Dear, now's not the time for questions, quickly. Now you need to think of a spell," Patty said, gesturing to the door. The blue glow was cracking. To which Veronica moved away from the book, raising her hand to keep it together.

I woke with a start, raising and pressing my hand on my chest. My father's side put a comforting hand on my shoulder, his face plastered with relief. He helped me sit up but not let me stand up. I looked past my dad's shoulder; they summoned Penny, Veronica was holding the field she created to protect us, Phoebe came next to me to check on me. And the two brothers were whispering to each other, which stopped when Dean realized I was awake.

I instantly put my fingers on my temples as the sharp pain started, and in that second, the shield broke, my father jumping quickly to protect Veronica and Valeria instantly coming to my side with her. 

The Netherwraith threw nearly everyone to the side and focused its attention only to me, ignoring my sisters. I took my sister's hands as I forced the pain from my head. 

"Darkest spirit, old and weak, Halliwell witches stand strong beside us, vanquish this evil from time and space," I spoke clearly and towards the netherwraith before my sisters, and I started saying it in sync.

The Netherwraith stopped, raising its hand, but with the final chant, the side turned ice-cold before it scattered, going out with an eerily screech and an explosion. 

**************************************

I pressed my lips as my steps followed behind the brothers on the stone steps in front of the house. Walking them back to the car, I'm not sure how Dean was handling the situation of everything that just happened in front of him, but Sam seemed like he was impressed and genuinely inspired to some extent.

"Listen, I have to say it, but could you keep us a little secret?" I asked, my ponytail brushing on the back of my neck with the movement.  
Sam stopped turning around next to the Impala, and Dean went towards the driver's seat before stopping as well and hearing the jiggle of his car keys.

"I have no intention in the telling," Sam said, with a warm smile; Dean seemed like he was deciding the right words to say.  
"If it means people are saved. It's safe with me," Dean said, sighing a bit lightly; I could tell that the words strung his pride a little.

"Ooh, protecting witches now, are we? Careful Dean, you might come back here," I teased with a sheepish grin as he looked at me. It was far, but I could tell he huffed before pointing at me.

"Sweetheart, I have no plans on ever coming back here," He said, irritated, and disappeared into the driver's seat of his car.  
Even though it was nighttime, I could make out the color of black and how shiny and clean it was. Sam leaned lightly and sighed for a second.

"You helped us a lot, so, despite my better judgment and most likely to Dean's discomfort, if there is anything you need help with, and no, you don't have to call on a phone, I'll hear you just by my name called," I said, smiling up towards Sam. I knew he was going to ask how but stopped himself.

"I'm sure it's nothing but, there's a demon out there; we have no idea where he is; all we know is that he is called the yellow-eyed demon. Our father is after him too, and well, we are looking for our dad if you could keep an eye out. We can call this even," Sam said hesitantly at first, but he seemed more trusting over me than his brother.

**************************************

"Consider our eyes opened," I said, smiling lightly, and Sam smiled back before Dean opened Sam's car door, to which Sam and I said our goodbyes and climbed into the Impala before Dean drove off. 

I made my way back inside the house and sat on the sofa in the sitting room. I was playing with my ponytail as my sisters took a seat next to me. My parents returned to where they have initially been to the location they were at, vacation, or saving innocent lives in France. It depended, I supposed. My great aunts left for the night, and Grandpa went to sleep. Grams was still up, though, sitting in her chair and looking at the three of us.

"We need to be prepared," I quietly said as I laid my head on Valeria's shoulder. I was gloomy, and my sister comforted me for a bit.

"Are you gloomy because you miss those brothers?" Valeria asked, just dawning on her, and I gave a small huff.

"Well, one of them was really cute," I said, starting pouting lightly and raising my finger, being a little dramatic before my face lightened up, and I smiled.  
To which I received a pillow to my face and giggles from my younger siblings and Grams. 

**************************************

Dean couldn't be happier to be in an unfamiliar hotel room far away from San Francisco. He was placing the duffle bag on a chair. He took off his jacket, putting it on his bed as Sam walked in behind him and turned on the lights.

"Man, I'll be glad never to see them again," He stated, yet the memories were still fresh in his mind.  
Especially Vanessa, the way her dark brown hair that almost mimicked the night sky. But in the sunlight was a stunning espresso brunette. He even recalled her eyes, how they seemed to be just as dark as her hair, but up close, there were hazel, merely creating the illusion of light dusky brown. Vanessa was undoubtedly attractive; her soft features were still as sharp and almost as if he wanted to admit it a little too perfect for him. Her body fit perfectly and held their own. So he imagined they would; she was also fierce and brave, but under everything seemed to have secrets in her thoughts. 

Pushing all of those thoughts to the deepest part of his mind and locking them away, he went to lie on his bed, Sam pressing his eyebrows together as if it was odd.

"I don't know, I didn't think it was that bad," Sam said, placing his computer bag on the foot of his bed and sitting down by it.  
"A little intense, but it's nice to know they are some good people out there," He added, to which Dean raised his eyebrow.

"Did you tell her?" Dean asked, sitting up this time. He knew his brother was dreaming with dreams of predicting the future. He wouldn't blame his brother for being curious and asking about what it all meant.

"No," Sam carefully put it, beginning to stand up, intending to get some food and drinks.  
"I asked her to look out for dad," He added carefully but looked at his brother. 

"Dad will not like witches looking out for him," Dean said, sighing in frustration.  
"But, I can understand why," He did. The more eyes they had out in the world, the better chance they would find their father.  
With that, Sam gave a half-smile before going out of the hotel to receive the items.

**************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (( Disclaimer: All canon characters are not mine and are respectivefully claimed to the original rights. All original characters I do take credit for ))


	2. 1.02 Dimensional Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1.02 Dimensional Nightmare
> 
> Constantia Halliwell - Prue Halliwell's granddaughter enlists the help of her cousins as she discovers a case, she believes is related to a new magical threat. While Vanessa discovers a powerful book, they are faced with a terrible monster able to cross different dimensions.

Feriae Monroe had bouncy strawberry blonde hair that flowed around her attractive face, her lips painted with a light color of pink to match the light makeup she hardly needed. She wore clothes that fit around her curves, with a formal floral shirt and a pair of skinny jeans, complete with high heel shoes.  
The night chilled and bit her exposed skin as her lips softly connected with her longtime boyfriend, Vensel Dalin. He was visiting from Sweden for summer break to spend some quality time with his girlfriend, Feriae. It was sweet, easily acceptable, satisfying in the least. Expect that there wasn’t a spark or passion in the soft kiss.   
Vensel had dirty blonde hair and pale blue eyes, and the night’s darkness mainly covered his stable structural features. He pulled away slightly as he straightened up; he towered over her. The height difference caused this. Feriae stood at five-three while Vensel stood just above six-two.

The night out was refreshing, and they were on their way back to Feriae’s apartment. The street lights shone on the freshly made puddles from rain as they started walking down the sidewalk. Even on a Saturday night, the city of San Francisco seemed so quiet.   
The night almost seemed perfect if it wasn’t the eerily feeling of something terrible going to happen that was fighting in Feriae’s stomach. Despite all the stomach-turning and the warning signs in her gut, she ignored them. She was trying to enjoy the company of her boyfriend, even if it meant them taking a dark alleyway.  
The wind picked up slightly as Feriae’s hazel eyes could faintly make out what was around here. Trash next to dumpsters, a feeling that you shouldn’t be down this alleyway, and the sound of feet splashing on water. The weight of Vensel’s arm on her shoulder comforted her as they walked down. Until she stopped, feeling the wind play with her hair until it died down. She could hear something; it started as faint as a whisper, a low, dangerous growl. It was hard to pinpoint precisely where the growling was coming from; her best guess was from everywhere.

The growl made Feriae’s stomach turn into a sinking feeling of something terrible was going to happen; she no longer wanted to be down this alleyway. Vensel stopped looking down at her, trying to figure out what was wrong. The alley had a turn to the right of what he could make out, but; he moved to turn around to look at Feriae. He heard nothing, no low growl; all he knew was his girlfriend seemed uneasy.  
It happened so suddenly; a dark figured appeared behind Vensel, causing Feriae to step back lightly, which confused Vensel slightly. He could ready to say something when a claw went through Vensel’s chest, blood-shattering into Feriae’s figure. Her face was dripping with blood, and her clothes drenched. Everything froze for her as she watched Vensel disappearing with the dark figure, trying to reaching out with haunting screams as he disappeared.

Feriae blinked once, looking at the location she saw the last of her boyfriend and the dark figure. She swallowed, trying to get the screams out of her head and falling on both her knees, looking at the wet concrete.

**************************************

I slammed my hand on top of the beeping alarm clock, opening my eyes slightly, seeing the sun trying to shine through my window. The smell of lavender filled my nostrils, and I closed my eyes, flipping to the other side, pulling the fluffy pale blue pillow over my head to block out the sun even more. I felt the need to get more sleep than the hours I have been getting. I may have only gotten eight hours just alone this week. Between the Netherwraith, the other demons that attack, and tests from college, it was easy to say that I needed more rest.

I put my hand on my face, sliding it down, opening my eyes in the orange color under the pillowcase. As the events of last week entered my mind, I was fully aware that moving the pillow off of my face and sitting up. The memories were fuzzy; the harder I tried to remember more details, the heavier it gets. I remember seeing my brother, pretty sure I did a crossover to the other side, and his words were muffled to me now, and suddenly I woke up. Of course, the spell was a rewritten version of ‘To Call Upon Our Ancestors,’ which has vanquished many powerful demons.

It strikes me as odd because there are a million spells in the Book of Shadows. I didn’t have time to talk about this to the family. What was there to talk about? I’ve died at least a few times, close to death experience half a dozen, it’s normal, at least in this family, and they would probably struggle it off.

I fiddled with the ends of the quilt that was on top. The worst of it is that I haven’t been able to summon my brother to talk to him. I bit the bottom of my lip, which meant he wasn’t allowed to see me. I pulled back the quilt. It was old; it was my Grams quilt when she was a kid. I think her mother made it for her, it’s fabric made of faded different color squares, and I often use it when I need extra comfort. It also didn’t help that I was already in trouble for attracting the attention of hunters.

Aunt Prue might have blown a fuse, and Grams kept the peace, but since this wasn’t the first time this has happened. Especially with me. The scolding words from everyone made that clear. Breathing out the frustration of anxiety from my chest, pushing out all thoughts in my mind, I got dressed.

The house seemed still as if I was the only person here. With the last step down the stairs, the stillness feeling went away as the smell of food came from the kitchen. I walked towards the kitchen, towards the promise of food. Seeing my Grams set a plate of pancakes on the table, noticing me almost instantly.

“Thought you would never come down,” Grams said happily, smiling warmly, as I took a seat at the table, starting to fill up my plate with the food on the table. Bacon, fruit, orange juice, almost every breakfast food item was on this table, it seemed.  
“Everything okay? You have barely been out of your room for almost two weeks. Expect you know for classes,” Her tone of voice turned to concern as she sat down herself, looking at me as I placed a pancake on my plate.

Grandpa was sitting at the table in front of me, reading the newspaper, but I could see his blue eyes peeking up from it, interested. His caring nature is still a part of him; he still hasn’t stopped being a voice of reason and a guiding person—a former whitelighter at his core and always caring about all of us.

“Everything is fine,” I brushed off as I took a bit of toast. It wasn’t the truth, and of course, my grandparents knew that.  
Of all the people who could figure things out if something was a mist, my grandparents. Grams put her hand on my forearm as a sign of telling me it was okay to talk about what’s on my mind.

“You know you can talk to us,” Grams started, and I shifted, tensing my muscles up and sitting up more straight before standing up.  
“I should go, don’t want to be late for school,” I mumbled before pulling away from my Grams, taking my backpack, and walking out of the Manor.  
“Just the witch I wanted to see,” A woman’s voice said, in front of the stone steps leading from the Manor to the street. 

She held a warm smile, had pixie cut brown hair and dark brown eyes. She held a yellow folder with her hands, wearing dark clothes, and I could see the flash of her golden badge from her belt with a holster.

Constantia Halliwell, my younger third cousin, believed it was, but in this family, everyone was close enough to be sisters or brothers. I smiled at her, feeling the weight of my backpack on my shoulder.

“Connie, nice to see you,” I warmly said as I stepped down to meet her.  
She handed me the folder, and I pressed my eyebrows together. I looked at her before looking at the folder, taking hold of it before opening, shutting it instantly as my willpower to keep the remaining of my food down.

“Not for the faint of heart,” Constantia said jokingly with a playful smile on her face as she took the folder back.  
The flash of gruesome pictures of body parts and organs painted in an alleyway. Made every part of my stomach turn. After I regained the natural composer for myself, I looked at her once again.

“You could have warned me,” I stated as I was trying to delete the images out of my head mentally. Constantia laughed before pulling me closer to her.

“That’s the fun part,” She said, wrapping her arms around my shoulder and walking us towards her car.  
“Look, there’s a demon, by the looks of it a monster of one,” Constantia’s voice turned to a stern tone as we slowly walked to her car, which looked to be a 2005 Toyota Corolla.

I sighed, out of the frying pan and into the fire. Never a break from these demons or the supernatural world. I crossed my arms, pressing my lips together and giving a slight twitch of my face.

“And you think I can handle it?” I said and started putting the pieces together.  
Since my parents are out of town and nearly all of our elders, I was the most powerful.  
“Have you tried calling your mom?” I asked, not wishing to deal with something so messy.

That was the one thing I never understood about myself; gore just never sat right with me. I was lucky enough not to throw up in front of Sam when I first blew up the Netherwraith and tasted the demon’s fresh chucks. Shivers ran down my spine as I remembered that.

“Mom’s out of town, so are most of us. But, I figured this demon is out of our league and should be left to the most powerful witch,” Constantia counterattacked my question; I moved my head to hang behind me as if it had defeated me.

While there are two forms of elders, we call our older relatives such, and then the younger ones, youngling. I raised my hands, pulling my index finger to which my cousin smiled.

“Alright, tell me what you know,” I said, as we stopped at the car, and I leaned on the car.

“Last night, a couple was walking home from a night out, the woman said her boyfriend was dragged through a portal, four blocks away in another alleyway, they found his remains. They dropped the case on my desk, and I figured this is magic related,” Constantia informed me as she opened the back door of her car, placing the folder inside and shutting the door looking at me.

“I’ll have Ronnie look in the book of shadows and send Val over to check the crime scene, and I’ll talk to the witness,” I said, biting my lip lightly as my cousin nodded her head, digging her keys out of her pocket.  
“Oh, one more thing. I was wondering if you could help me find someone,” I crossed my arms and sighed lightly. This piqued my cousin’s interest only by the rise of her eyebrow.  
“Since when do you have friends?” Constantia asked, interested in her voice. “You don’t have friends, all my life; you’ve never even thought of having friends. Not after that attack,”

My cousin wasn’t wrong, I only ever had one friend, and after a demon attacked, it forced me to stop our friendship. I looked to the side, trying to find the right words in telling her I was helping Sam as he asked.  
“No,” She quickly said, putting a finger in the air to scold me.  
“This is about the hunters who you ran into a week ago. You are not dragging me into it,” Her voice stern, and her eyes match. I hesitated for a second.

“It’s just I feel as if I have to help them,” I put it, and she gave a disappointed sigh. Besides the feeling of knowing them my entire life, I felt drawn to them. Of course, this could all be me denying the fact that I’m attracted to Dean. “Maybe it’s the good witch in me, or maybe it’s the whitelighter. But, I feel as if they are innocents still, and I need to protect them,”

Constantia chuckled as if I made a joke; when she realized I was serious about what I said, she stopped.

“Oh god, you’re serious,” She said out loud, almost trying to believe this was happening. She sighed, getting tensed, and looked over the roof of her car.  
“V, they are hunters. They are the least ones you need to be protecting,” Her voice stern and dangerously fumed.  
She shifted as if she was uncomfortable with all of this, and I didn’t entirely blame her for it. Constantia is the granddaughter of Prue, short-fused and easily in dismissal of things.

“I know that. Everyone knows that. But I can’t just deny the fact that apart from me, I feel the need to help them, whether I know they can handle it themselves,” I defended the thought, only to receive an unsatisfied sigh. “I wouldn’t be a part of their lives if I weren’t supposed to help them, it’s only one thing, and maybe that’s it,”

“You already protected them. Call it off, you helped them with one thing, and it turns into a million things.” Constantia defensively reminded me.  
I shifted slightly, finally looking back at her and sighing. She is my best bet of finding someone or something. I met her eyes, and she tilted her head.  
“I’m not falling for it,” She quickly stated, pointing at me as I made my eyes as innocent and puppy-like as possible.

“It’s only one thing. I promise after this; one thing is over. I will never see them again or think about them,” I promised, and she sighed, shaking her head.  
“Fine, what’s the name?” Constantia defeated and continued shaking her head as disappointment riddled her face.

“You know, I don’t recall being told their last name,” I froze, thinking back to the entire situation. Technically, Dean didn’t even introduce himself either to me; Sam did.  
“The brothers' names are Sam and Dean; Sam mentioned they were looking for their father,” I blew out air as I tried to puzzle everything together.

“Okay, that really narrows things down,” Constantia’s sass wasn’t appreciated but understandable.  
“I’ll check into it, just focus on this,” She indignantly said as she moved over to the driver’s seat; I walked away as she turned on the engine to drive away.

I pressed my lips before pulling out my cell phone.

*****************************************

“I just don’t understand why she feels the need to help the two hunters. The last one nearly killed her, don’t you think she would have fear over them, right?” Constantia was frustrated as she pulled the caution tape above Valeria’s head to let her go through.  
Valeria sighed, detached as she looked around the scene, taking deep breaths.

“They saved her twice. If it weren’t for them, Vanessa would be dead; we all would be dead,” Valeria honestly said as she kneed down at a pool of blood looking at it. “I trust them,”

“Well, do you have leads? She doesn’t even know their last name,” Constantia sighed, annoyed, and looked around, making sure there wasn’t anyone else but them. If they got caught, Constantia would be in a lot of trouble.

“I believed their last name is Winchester,” Valeria impartial as her hand hovered the pool of blood; flashes started playing in Valeria’s head, she closed her eyes, focusing on controlling the flashes to play a movie in her head.

Valeria could see the first part, the couple walking home and leading up to it. When the man in her vision got dragged, her vision filled with darkness; she felt the victim's pain. The light of the alleyway came into her mind. When Valeria reopened her eyes, sighing lightly and pressing her lips together, drawing her hand back to herself and standing up.

“What did you see?” Constantia asked, concerned, as she noticed her cousin tense up. Valeria sighed and looked at her cousin.  
“Nothing good,” She cautionary everything about this seemed off. She rubbed her fingers together, trying to think about what to do.  
Valeria saw nothing, just darkness, and when she tried to recall, nothing made sense. But she felt the pain of the victim, which was taking some time to dissolve.

Nothing made sense to her. The demon with this power vanquished a long time ago by the original Charmed Ones, and if not them, then her father and his siblings. The Netherwraith was the first powerful demon in her and her sister's face, and while she believed in her sisters. She wasn’t all too sure about the future held in store of them. Even though she could foresee it, she guessed that this demon or whatever the hell it was would not be in the Book of Shadows.

Valeria turned to walk back the way they came, a sickly feeling sitting in her stomach. Everything was hastily becoming different, the world around them getting darker by the second. Admittedly, this scared her, and they were going to have to adopt a new system. For this reason alone was enough for Valeria to make her way to the local bookstore.

***************************************

The pages of the old Book of Shadows moved as Veronica was flipping through its pages. She was assuring herself that the demon they were facing stuck to the pages of the Book. When she finally got to the end of the Book, she sighed, closing it shut. Why do they have to fight a demon that isn’t in the Book? She shook her head and reflected.

“Genesis!” Veronica called as she moved away from the podium, going to the attic center as orbs fell, forming into a figure.

The woman moved her long wavy red hair; her light brown eyes shined a complaint towards Veronica. She wore fluid clothing, a solid pastel pink blouse, with jeans. All to match the era she was currently living in. Genesis Parker is the sister's whitelighter and a guide to finding out answers if they need help.

“You rang?” Genesis asked, with a warm smile and looking around the room.  
“Why are we stuck with the impending doom of fighting demons a lot stronger than us?” Veronica questioned as she crossed her arms, standing in front of Genesis.  
“If you wouldn’t have been able to handle it, then you wouldn’t be facing it,” Genesis encouraged her charge with an assuring smile.

The sound of a stack of books being placed on the old coffee table brought the two's attention to see Valeria gesturing to the bag.

“Then I suggest we find other means,” Valeria took a book out and threw it at Veronica, who caught it. Genesis moved over to the bag, taking a book out.  
“Gen, in the meantime, can you talk to the Elders and see if they might know what this demon is,” Valeria politely asked, to which Genesis smiled, placing the book down and orbing away from view.  
“Are you seriously adopting the means of hunters?” Veronica questioned, reading the back of the book her sister threw at her.

“This is the second demon we have faced that isn’t in the Book of Shadows,” Valeria admitted to her sister.  
“They have better resources than we do. We can’t rely on the School either; we have to adapt,” She warned, taking a book out of the bag. “There’s been plenty of supernatural creatures running around that the Book wasn’t involved in,”

“Alright. But I will not enjoy it,” Veronica disappointed and took a seat on the couch in the attic.  
Valeria took a seat next to her sister and opened her book to read. It was a few seconds of silence before Veronica closed her book.  
“I’m worried about Nessa,” She said, concerned, placing the book on her lap. Her sister has never been this distant before.

Because of last week that caused Vanessa to seem more distant relating to anyone in her family, it was as if she was trying to avoid them at all costs. Of course, Veronica didn’t blame her older sister, but she had many questions for her older sister. It took their father a long time to heal Vanessa and even longer for them to find a solution to vanquish the Netherwraith.

“She’s a big girl, Ronnie. She can handle it,” Valeria’s eyes were engulfed in the words on the pages of the book.  
Veronica looked at her younger sister and shifted slightly to put her leg up.  
“We are her sisters; we are supposed to handle it together,” Veronica reminded her, with the rogue attitude and suddenly causing an uproar with hunters. She was feeling like she was losing her sister to a different world altogether.

“Veronica, last week you got severely injured. I get it, I do, but when one of us gets severely injured, she goes rogue. She got hunters on her radar; she must be hard on herself, even for that. And the only way we can support her is by letting her work through it. When she is ready, she’ll talk to us, but right now, a lot happened last week. She just needs time,” Valeria insisted on her older sister. She was worried about Vanessa. But that wasn’t an excuse to force her into submission.

Each sister differed from each other, and each one dealt with things differently. Veronica dealt with her by talking about it until it stopped bothering her. Valeria dealt with it by asking for advice. As for Vanessa, she dealt with it by bottling everything up and shutting herself out from the world. It was debating that she was the oldest; without their brother, she felt the most responsible for everyone.

“After our elders gave her heavy words, I can only imagine her being upset about her actions,” Valeria added, opening the book again.  
“But, I have to admit it was refreshing for her to have an interest other than Thaddaus,” She mumbled; Veronica wide her eyes open.

“What exactly did I miss?” Veronica puzzled; she wasn’t there for most of it, as she and Valeria were trying to figure out ways to vanquish the Netherwraith.  
“Do you think there is something there?” She pushed her eyebrows together in disbelief.

“Doubt it; he is struggling with his own interest towards her; I could only imagine how Nessie must feel,” Valeria flipped a page, detached from the entire situation.  
“And there’s the fact that they are probably not going to see each other again. So, I don’t think we have to worry. But it was interesting. I haven’t seen her heart be that energetic for a while,”

“Great, just great,” Veronica’s disapproving tone started shining in the line.  
“Why does she always have feelings for the ones that want to kill us?” She annoyingly opened her book this time, and she shook her head, fuming. 

Valeria said nothing as she looked above the brim of her book. She was raising an eyebrow to the oncoming knowledge she was receiving. Careful not to tip the balance, she smirked lightly and went back to the research she brought home.

*****************************************

The afternoon sun shone down on the ivory piece of paper in my book as I read some material. Chirping from birds played musically in my ears as I closed the book. The innocent Feriae Monroe wasn’t here today, at least to my knowledge, and I checked everywhere. I wouldn’t blame her if I witnessed what my cousin told me; I would lie low. I needed to focus on my classes as my cousin was trying to track her down.

I walked towards the last of the old buildings last to be renovated; the building housed the campus library—going down the stone steps that lead into the ancient pine doors and taking out my phone, flipping it open to shut it down.

The library had cherry wood bookshelves lined satisfyingly; the shelves housed the books the students needed for a course. The tables were made of walnut wood, matched with wooden chairs, lamps with the green glass cover sitting on the tables to help students with their studies. I even believed that the floorboards were the original oak flooring.  
They covered the walls with bookshelves, and it carved only a few windows into the walls to let in some fresh light. A few lights hung above, letting more light in because the sunlight couldn’t light the room because of the lack of light.

A couple of students were already in their seats studying, and I went to the front desk. I stacked return books up behind the dip of the top of the desk. I placed my textbook on top of the surface. A man in the back turned around at the book's sound being placed, walking up towards the desk.

“Vanessa,” The man happily approached as he took the book in his hands.  
He was the same age as my father, perhaps a few years older. The man had a gentle face, and while he held librarian energy with the clothing to match. However, this man is my Uncle Owen; he was the husband of my Aunt Melinda.  
“Hi, Uncle,” I warmly responded with a smile on my face.  
Owen was the campus librarian and often helped with answering questions to certain situations I may need help with; however, in this case, I needed help to return a book I needed for class. I only had a few more months until graduation, and if I needed the book later, I can always come back and study within the library.

“Trust you have all the notes required,” He quietly put as he labeled the book returned and put it on a tray behind him with the many other returned books.  
“That’s the dream,” I quietly chirped and smiled, juggling my backpack to rest once again on my shoulder as it was slipping.  
“Hey, by any chance, have you’ve seen a girl named Feriae Monroe?” I hoped for a solid answer as I couldn’t find her anywhere.  
I believed she might have been absent from school, but it was worth asking.

A silence formed as my Uncle's facial features developed in debating or not, he should tell me before deciding to point toward where the section of horror stories would be. I looked over at the row he was pointing at, confused why he wouldn’t just tell me before I saw a woman around my age with strawberry blonde hair, looking directly at me before moving deeper into the row after she spotted me.

I blinked, confused, and a bit creeped out. I shook my head, pushing away any thoughts that dared to stop me from following such a weird feeling. But, I’m a Charmed One, protector of the innocence, and she’s the innocent I need to protect. I gripped the straps of my backpack, pulling it off of my body and setting it down on the surface of the desk, feeling my back thanking me for a moment as I prepared myself to follow the woman in the row of horror books.

I fiddled with my fingernail as I looked down the row; I didn’t have a plan other than to freeze the entire room. Before going down the row, it was broad daylight; I had no reason to be nervous or scared. I shouldn’t be this uneasy going down a row of books I have gone down many times.

The woman was shorter than me; I guessed her height to be around 5’3, maybe 5’4. As I was 5’8, it wasn’t a vast difference; I was average. She had brought her hair into a messy ponytail, and her clothes were neat and nice looking.  
The only source of clothing I wore was nothing but items to vanquish demons in jeans, shirts, and sometimes jackets. I needed to ask her about fashion advice after all of this was over, of course. She was staring at a book spine; it looked old, worn out by the people who read it previously. The creases of white caused me to believe that.

“Feriae Monroe?” I asked softly as not to disturb the readers in the library and not to scare her. She was gazing at the books in front of her.  
I glanced at the names of names printed on the spine of the book; the disappeared golden letters make it impossible to read. My eyebrow arched as it scanned my memory; I don’t recall seeing the book in this library.

It seemed too old to be in this library and fragile to be researched by students. I turned my body to let my arm lengthen to grab the spine to see the cover of the ancient book. The woman’s hand wrapped around my forearm, grasping me, keeping me from touching the top of its worn spine. I pushed my eyebrows together and looked over at her.

“Please, leave it be,” She spoke, little and mousy as if the words were stuck in her throat.  
It was no doubt in my mind that this woman is who I was looking for; the fear in her voice was all I needed. I pulled my arm back as she let go and watched as she finally looked away from the book.

“That depends. Will it help us?” I asked, bringing my voice to a warm tone to convince her she was safe.  
The only sounds breaking the newly formed silence were pages turning by studying students. Finally, she stepped back to let me grab the book, to which I piqued my interest.

Pressing my lips together, I reached out again and took the book in my hands. An icy shiver went shot through my body, the hair standing up on my neck. This book was unique from all the rest. It felt heavy; the pages were old, older than the Book of Shadows pages.  
They carved weird symbols into the leather of the hardcover, protecting the pages. I have never seen these before, well maybe one; it was a sharp curve star with an eye-shaped with a fire engulfed in the center.

I couldn’t remember where I saw this, but it felt familiar. The aura alone made me frighten; it held secrets, dark secrets to which I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know. I kept the book in my hands, not opening it because of the overwhelming feeling that something horrible would happen.

It wasn’t until I blinked I regained my courage to open the book. When I went to open the cover, that’s when a hand slammed down.  
It was a sharp thump, and the forearm was covered in hair. The pages stopped turning, and a few shush sounded; I blinked, looking up to see a tall man standing next to me.  
He had short dark hair and matching stubble with piercing brown eyes. His features were sharp, and his upper body matched with muscles spent years of working out.

“Thaddaus,” I softly stated, swallowing to dispel the dry throat I wasn’t aware I had until I was back on Earth.  
Thaddaus Hayes, the tall, brooding type with secrets on top of secrets. A cliché type, but it was the only thing I had to say about him. That was nice anyway. 

“Not here,” He sharply put as his piercing icy glare focused onto Feriae. Thaddaus wasn’t one to sugarcoat a lot of things.  
“I believed I told you to get lost,” I coldly said, narrowing my eyes glaring towards him. “Why are you here?”  
“You know why,” He simply put it, finally looking at me and removing his hand on the cover of the book.  
I shook my head and looked at Feriae before moving towards her; she looked up at me before realizing I meant to leave.

“I can help you, but you have to trust me,” I said, ignoring Thaddaus and continuing to work towards protecting an innocent.  
Feriae looked up towards the tall figure standing behind me, Thaddaus, before back at me, nodding and moving the book into my backpack. I moved away from the location I was at with Feriae before Thaddaus grabbed my arm.

“Vanessa,” He said; I looked at the bookshelf in front of me, not being able to move from the spot I was at, clenching my jaw and giving a sharp tug, getting my arm out of his grip.  
I turned to face him before flickering my hands in front of me, causing the entire room to freeze.  
“I don’t have time for this,” I mumbled, making sure he wasn’t moving before I waved my hand in front of Feriae, unfreezing her. Now free to leave the library.

The setting sun told me it was soon to be night as I pulled into the driveway of the Manor. I clenched my jaw as I turned the car off and looked at Feriae.

“A couple of ground rules,” I started looking up at the Manor.  
“We aren’t exactly normal, we are here to help, and things might get a little complicated too fast,” Her eyes looked at the dashboard, trying to find words to say.

“I just saw my former boyfriend get dragged into a dark portal,” Feriae softly put it as she looked at me.  
“I think I can handle anything,” She gave a weak small smile towards me.  
“But, to make sure what exactly you are?” She asked; this was a question I always got a hit or miss on, either people thought we were crazy and didn’t believe us until later on after the demon attacks. Or they run away in fear, and we have to watch and protect them in secret.

“Well, we are witches. We kick evil’s butt every week and protect innocents like you,” I stated.  
It wasn’t a lie; it was the truth, and I was never one to lie to anyone. Unless they were evil and wanted to know all the secrets, then that’s when they would have to torture me.  
“We want to make sure this happens to no one else,” I reassured her, and her thoughts processing in her mind.

“And the guy we encountered at the library?” She asked, and I sighed, looking ahead of me; I never knew how to answer that question.  
But, whenever he was involved, he always made the people I need to protect so much harder, made them feel uneasy, and that was no doubt in my mind as to what is happening right now.  
“The least of our problems,” I gave a slight unhappy smile as I sighed once again. I finally looked at the woman next to me and opened my car door as I unbuckled myself. “Protecting you is my primary concern,”

I pointed my car key at Feriae before finally making our way into the Manor. Grams should be at the restaurant, and grandpa should be at the School. My parents were a different story; I never knew where they were.

I led Feriae into the sitting room before gesturing for her to take a seat. I put my backpack on the coffee table, and we had a little small talk; I asked her if she wanted anything, things like that. I sighed, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket and flipping it open.

“Vanessa,” I heard my sister Veronica’s voice call as the front door opened and slammed shut. I was just about ready to call her, and here she was.  
“In here,” I called back, and after a few seconds later, she appeared, looking at Feriae and then back at me. Worried plastered on her face, causing me to arch my eyebrows together.  
“Something happened,” I said, concerned about what I was about ready to be told. Veronica shrugged lightly before taking a seat next to Feriae.

“It can wait later,” She said, avoiding the topic, which made me feel more suspicious of what the matter was.  
I heard footsteps coming down the steps, and Valeria appeared, sighing in defeat and taking a seat in one armchair.  
“I can’t find anything in the book,” Valeria said, overlapping her legs together and shaking her head.  
“Feriae, these are my sisters, Veronica and Valeria,” I introduced her to my matterless siblings, narrowing my eyes towards them both.  
“That’s reassuring,” I said, sighing and bending down, opening my backpack, pulling out the book I found at the library with Feriae.

Valeria was the first to arise from her seat, even though she looked comfortable in the position she formed. Her hands were rubbing her palms, telling me she was nervous. I glanced up at my sister before looking at Veronica and straightened myself up.

“Vanessa,” Valeria’s voice was soft and filled with warning.  
“Don’t open that,” She simply put, looking up at me in the eyes.  
“You’re the psychic; you tell me why,” I pressed my lips and tilted my head to the side.  
“Do you think the information we need is in this book?” I asked, and Valeria hesitated; I raised my eyebrow as the silence brought me to believe that it would.

“I’m getting crystals, don’t open that book until I get back,” Valeria demanded as she left the room, making her way up the steps to the attic, no doubt. I blinked, shrugging lightly before looking at the symbols.  
The strange symbol that apart from me knows it’s seen but wouldn’t enlighten me on where to pique my interest more than ever. I sat down in my armchair and traced my fingers over the symbol.

“Where did you find that thing, anyway?” Veronica’s voice drew me out of the trace and took the book from my hands, looking at the cover. She moved the paper around in her hands as she examined the entire book.  
“And what did you do to it?” She questioned once she saw the condition of the spine.

“It was at the library,” Feriae chirped in, gaining the attention of Veronica, and then looked at me.  
“I’ve never seen it before in the library, and it radiates some ungodly energy,” She added, to which they gave me the book back from my sister.  
As if to tell me she didn’t want to hold such a thing.

“It will not bite,” I mumbled softly as I nearly dropped the book as I pushed it back into my hands. Able to rebalance my grip on the cover.

“No offense in our line of work, things do normally bite,” Veronica defended the idea that it could attack at any moment.  
I sighed, placing the book onto my lap as I patiently waited for my youngest sister to rejoin us.  
“Feriae, what happened exactly?” I asked softly, turning my attention to uncovering any more information before looking into this book.  
Feriae looked down at the rug under the coffee table.  
“I’m not sure; it was a pretty standard night. We were walking home, and Vensel decided to take a shortcut home. Then I heard some inhuman growling coming from all directions, then a whirlpool formed, and then blood appeared on my face,” Her voice dripped with fear and sadness as she did her best to recall the events.  
“Then the book, it was as if something was drawing me to it,” She added, finally raising her eyes to look at the book.

“Okay,” Valeria’s voice said as her foot landed on the hardwood, and her arms were holding white spiky crystals. I glanced up at my sister before looking at Feriae again.  
“Veronica, why don’t you take her home,” I said, holding up my hand before she could protest. “Feriae should get some rest; you can protect her there,” I watched as Valeria moved out of view and into the dining area.  
“What if we need the power of three?” Veronica asked, starting to argue with the thought.  
“Then you can orb,” I reminded her, and she crossed her arms.  
“Innocents come first,” I told her and to which she gave a defeated sigh.

Veronica looked at Feriae, to which she stood up, and they both walked out of the Manor. I stared at the cover of the book once more before finally rising from my seat to join Valeria in the dining room.

We laid the white spiky crystals out in the center in a perfect circle, and Valeria glanced at the book. The energy radiating from it was a unique source of magic I have never felt before. I clenched my jaw slightly, took a deep breath, and placed it into the crystal circle. Whatever the contents of the book had in its pages, the crystals didn’t like it. A stream of white lights appeared, creating a containment field. The symbols on the cover glowed this eerily dark golden light as if it was fighting our magic, causing the crystals to explode; I covered my eyes at the light and looked at Valeria as the book stopped glowing.

“That can’t be good,” I sighed, moving my arm that was covering my eyes to see what had happened.  
“Something tells me we will not find the information at the Magic School’s library,” Valeria added, and I sighed, crossing my arms, gesturing to the book.  
“Then what do we do? Do we even know if the Elders know what this is?” I asked, to which Valeria shrugged, not knowing what to answer me.

*****************************************

Nighttime always made Veronica nervous; she couldn’t see all that well, and shadows could be anything. Pulling into the underground garage underneath Feriae’s apartment made Veronica even more nervous. The low music playing in the car was all that was keeping the dread silence from being unbearable. There were a few questions throughout the drive once Veronica parked the car and turned off the engine.

“There was this man at the library,” Feriae started, and Veronica looked at Feriae, piquing her interest.  
“I could tell he was making Vanessa uneasy,” She softly mentioned towards Veronica’s sister.  
Veronica’s eyes narrowed before looking out the window shield, sighing lightly.  
“He is an actual piece of work,” Veronica mumbled before taking her car keys out of the ignition.  
Veronica never needed to guess who the person was; every time he is in town, Vanessa makes a face uncomfortable and is more bossy than usual.

The smooth concrete perfectly laid as the base of the few cars parked underneath. Concrete pillars supported the tall building, and worn painted lines kept the vehicles parked in places. There were signs to lead the way of anyone that was in the garage. The stillness told Veronica that it was only her and Feriae in the garage.

Veronica glanced at Feriae as both of them closed their car doors. Veronica pushed her hair behind her ears before following Feriae to the location where the elevators would be. Until Feriae stopped, she glanced around the underground garage as if she heard something, causing Veronica to stop walking and looking at Feriae.

The low inhuman growl sounded all around the lot, causing the lights to surge, breaking the glass and darkness to fill the entire lot. Veronica spun, trying to make out anything; for a second, the emergency lights kicked on. Feriae grabbed Veronica’s forearm pulling her behind someone else’s car. Both of the girl's breath caught in their chests as silent footsteps cracking the smooth concrete floors.

The inhuman noise snarled as if it was looking for something, quiet sniffs as a terrible screeching noise sounded as it clawed at a car’s door, and as soon as it started, the noise stopped. However, Veronica didn’t feel as if it just left, and it was still in the lot, almost as if it was hunting.  
Her eyes scanned, trying to find a room that they could use to hide in, until she saw a dark figure hunched on the ground as if it was a hound of some sort. It was too dark to make out in more significant features.

Even though Feriae still had a grasp on Veronica’s forearm, Veronica took hold of Feriae more tightly. The hound at first didn’t notice them until finally, it’s figure turned in their direction. Veronica suddenly stood up, pulling Feriae up with her as the figure with incredible speed charged at them. In a second, white and blue lights appeared around both of them, and in that second, they disappeared, causing the beast to collide with the car they were hiding behind.

Veronica gave out the blue and white lights formed in one of the Manor hallways and a sigh of relief. The familiar surroundings made her feel more at ease, but nothing could replace the fact of what she saw or couldn’t see.

*****************************************

“One more time,” I moved my finger in a circle, trying to wrap my head around what I have been told.  
Veronica sighed, sitting on the pink couch in the attic next to Feriae.  
“I told you, something that resembled a hound attacked us,” Veronica said, running her hand through her hair. She was pale like she saw a ghost.  
Feriae had said nothing about the matter, which I didn’t blame her for.

I sighed, starting to pace back and forth, trying to decide our next move, feeling the eyes of my sister following me. Valeria’s high heels sounded on the floorboards as she entered the room with the book we got from the library and looked at me.  
“You’re pacing, stop it; you are making me nervous,” Valeria said, putting her eyebrows together, to which I shrugged with my hands.

“If you have a better idea, please share with the class Val,” I offered as I sat on the armrest of the old pink couch we had. Valeria’s index finger raised to me and turned the book to face my way.  
“Remember when Dad used to read you Lovecraftian horror stories before bed?” She asked, and I put my eyebrows together in confusion.  
“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked, crossing my arms, still confused with this matter.  
“Look, Vanessa, the symbol on the cover closely is an Elder sign,” Valeria said, a little annoyed I wasn’t gathering all the facts as she handed me the book for me to reexamine the cover page.

Now that she mentioned it, the curvy star with the engulfed fire eye resembled the Elder Sign. This couldn’t be the book from the stories, it was rare and apart from a fictional University, and it was beyond the competence of any mortals to read the book. It could drive anyone insane if they didn’t take it slowly.

“You want me to believe that we have a copy of the Necronomicon, a fictional book from horror stories that either ends with insanity or death?” I questioned, placing the book on my lap and looking at Valeria.  
“The book where actual nightmares exist,” I added, pressing my lips together.  
“We fight impossible enemies every day, V,” Valeria reassured as she glanced at the book. It makes sense why our crystals are blown out of proportion.

The Necronomicon was a book containing all the entities and creatures that Lovecraft ever wrote about, and it had its own protection under the Elder Sign. I shook my head, looking back at the cover of the book.  
“You know the stories more than us,” Valeria added, and I clenched my jaw at the thought of what would happen to my mental stability just by reading this book.  
I sat straight up and tied my hair in a ponytail before rising from my seat.  
“Wait, you aren’t serious about opening the book, are you?” Veronica asked, concerned, as I went to center myself in the center of the room.  
“We have to, strange book, strange demon, might hold answers,” I shrugged, looking at the cover still.  
“The worst that can happen is I go insane,” I reassured, giving a slight frown and shrugged towards my sisters.  
I could create light from my fingertips and set things on fire with just the wave of my hand. Going insane is the least of my concerns. I placed the book down and took some chalk from the old chest we held our supplies into.

“What are you doing?” Valeria asked as I moved the circle rug to reveal the original hardwood floors and drew the symbol on the cover of the book on the ground.  
“If memory serves, the sign is for protection,” I recalled, my eyebrows pinching together at the thought, and once I was down, I jumped out of the sign and looked at the others. Gesturing to the sign, they looked before me.  
“I doubt this thing can do damage to me, but you guys need this more,” I said, going back to the book.

Once my sisters and Feriae were standing in the chalk made symbol, I took a deep breath. Before snapping my fingers lightly and looking at the attic door, I still had my grandparents to look out for, I moved over and shut it, drawing the same symbol on the door.

“Are you offering us as bait?” Veronica asked, annoyed, and I turned to look at her. Narrowing my eyes at her and shaking my head at her remark.  
“No, I’m protecting you,” I responded as I moved away from the attic door and moved to the side of the Elder Sign on the floorboards. I bite my nail on my thumb before taking the book and opening it.

Strange pictures, signs, and writing hastily scribbled into the old cripple pages of the book. It was as if someone was in a heavy state or was afraid to forget all the events that occurred. There were commands, blinding, and summoning rituals of the different mythos that Lovecraft wrote about; however, there were two spells in this book that enchanted two things, a knife and pipes. But, it wasn’t everything; from what I could make out, none of these rituals were for the Great Old Ones; Cthulhu, for example, was one of them. Which relieved me, meant we weren’t facing one of them, and no idiot was trying to awaken a deity from its slumber.

“Well?” Valeria asked, and I chewed a bit inside my cheek as I moved the pages to read them. This book has been used, and it wasn’t dusty like I thought it might be.  
“It’s not the Necronomicon, that’s for sure,” I reassured her, as my head started feeling pressurized, and pressed my lips tightly. I’m a witch; I do impossible things every day. I should be able to keep my sanity in check.  
“How are you feeling?” Veronica asked, tilting her head to the side as she watched her sister read the book.  
“I’m Okie Doki,” I reassured her, my hand holding the book’s spine started grasping. The pressurization of the knowledge I was attaining was talking something in return until I finally stopped at a selection that had a single red string in the center.

My fingers went to rest on the back of my neck as I read the description at hand. My stomach turned; it wasn’t one of the Gods. No, it was one of its monsters. I rewrote the words with fresh ink, telling me that whoever had this book before wanted to make sure they were summoning the right thing.

“Dimensional Shambler,” I mumbled as I read the description in my head.  
A hunter could dimension hop into other dimensions, hunting prey and taking them with it. It told me that someone had summoned it here; it doesn’t leave its prey never to be found again. The only problem with this is I’m not exactly sure how to defeat a dimensional hunter.

“What?” Veronica’s voice chirped in, and I closed the book, the remaining dust appearing out of its pages, and I looked up at her.  
“A Dimensional Shambler is a hunter that hunts in different dimensions,” I told her, sitting down on the couch as my head felt woozy and the world spun.  
“Okay, what do we do about it?” Valeria asked, and I sat the book next to me as I tried to recover what I had left of my sanity and mind.

“I think that’s in another volume,” I responded with a sigh and looked up at my sisters.  
“Most of the time, no one has gained the knowledge to kill any of these monsters. Like I said, you either go mad, or you die from them,” I repeated, putting my hands on the sides of my forehead.

“Then go mad enough to kill it,” Feriae answered, and I put my eyebrows together, looking at her.  
“What? You guys are witches, right? Science is basically on the fragile line of madness and intelligence; sometimes I have to go insane to find the conclusion to the situation,” She added and crossed her arms.  
“Maybe not that,” Veronica said, trying to turn down the situation to the problem. I looked back at the book.

“No, she’s right,” I backed Feriae’s idea up and picked the book back up.  
“Only one of us has to enchant a knife, or three,” I pressed my lips together, standing up from the couch, ignoring all sense of the rush of gravity to keep me down.

“That’s a terrible plan,” Veronica argued as I walked over to the chest and pulled out the items I believed I needed.  
“We need the Power of Three; there’s no Power of Two,” She continued as I moved the Book of Shadows onto a table and replaced it with the book in my hand.

“Look, the Book of Shadows has a memory erase spell in it,” I began looking finally at my younger sister.  
“Worst case, I go insane, I blow up a couple of things, and I cowered in the attic's corner, which is protected by an Elder Sign. After we kill this thing, erase my memory, it’ll be like nothing happened. Or create a spell to regain my sanity, chef’s choice,” I smirked as I reopened the book.

Turning the pages nearly as fast as I can to at least try to avoid any more permanent damage to myself until I found what I was looking for, I frowned, looking at the requirements before closing the book. I will not be killing a small animal to enchant a knife; I am not that kind of witch, and on top of my duties as a good witch, I make sure all life, including small animals—are safe from harm.  
“That was a bust,” I mumbled, sighing and looking around the attic, trying to salvage my sanity once again.

Before I could even think of another solution to this problem, the lights went out, and I couldn’t see anything in the attic. I raised my hand, causing blue and white lights to appear in my hand before sending it towards where I knew my sisters were, lighting the attic room up.

I heard nothing; all I felt was a rush of air as it threw me across the room, my back hitting a beam and then boxes to break my fall. I quickly put my hands on the floor and pushed myself up.

“Stay inside the protection,” I was gesturing to the others to stay put; no one knew what happened other than what I just experienced.  
I didn’t even have time to acknowledge the fact that warm sticky blood was falling down the side of my cheek or the fact that my arm felt like it had a gash in it.

My major focus was on the figure in front of me. It stood on two legs and had to hunch its neck slightly to; taller than I imagined and not at all of what my sister described. Its head had no facial features except for the slit I was guessing belonged to its mouth. It moved down to create the illusion of a hound; it was staring directly at me, snarling, and I narrowed my eyes.

Before anyone of us could do anything about it, it charged with incredible speed; I couldn’t orb fast enough, and the next thing I knew, I was in what I assumed to be another dimension.

“What the hell just happened?” Veronica asked, looking at the spot where her sister and the monster disappeared, the lights coming back on.  
“Where is our sister?” She questioned, looking at Valeria before back at the spot and stepping out of the sign.  
“Let’s just hope Vanessa can orb back to our dimension,” Valeria said, staring at the spot, sighing before moving to get the Book of Shadows.

*****************************************

The grip from the monster made sure I wouldn’t move, and if I orbed, I’d be taking it with me. When we finally appeared, it kept hold of me; the room was well-decorated, matching a luxury lifestyle. Light colors with gold highlights matching the décor and the faint sound of a fountain sounded somewhere behind me. I could smell the smoke from a cigarette and two figures standing before me.

One sitting with his hair tied to reveal his powerful features, and the other standing with his back turned, his black hair gel back perfectly. Their clothes didn’t match each other, the one with his back turned wore a sharp suit and the other casual dark garments. He had a single scar down his left eye, and he smiled, looking at my arrival.

“Vanessa,” He warmly said, and the man with his back turned looked up to see the commotion.   
“I was beginning to think you’ll never show up,” The man who spoke stood, tall and muscular he looked at the suited man who was average and well-fit.  
“Peirson, I thought we vanquished your sorry ass two years ago,” I coldly announced, my eyes narrowing into a glare as I clenched my jaw.  
The man smiled more at the formality of me recognizing him, the suited man I didn’t know.

“It didn’t stick so well, please, all I want to do is talk,” Peirson said, gesturing to the thing standing behind me as it loosened its grip and stepped back, disappearing out of view.  
“Beautiful creatures. Don’t bother orbing, magically sealed in,” His voice brought my attention back to him.

Peirson stepped lightly, more happily. He wasn’t frightened at all, as if he caught the biggest fish in the ocean. His smile was peeking, and his cheerful hum brought a slight worry to me.

“Now’s not the time to gloat, love,” Peirson said, stopping in front of me and placing his thumb on my chin to pull my eyes to look up at him. I punched him hard in the stomach, and he moved back, clenching it a bit.  
“You’ve been practicing,” He smiled even more.  
“What do you want?” I asked, trying to drag this extended reunion to a close.  
“Oh, you know, to kill the Halliwell line and finally be the ruler of the Underworld,” He said, crossing his arms. My punch didn’t do any damage.  
“But, that’s always out of reach,” Pierson said, sighing and moving back to his seat, sitting down. “I just wanted to tell you; I’m back and good luck vanquishing me this time,”

Before I could say anything in return, he waved his hand, and the next thing I knew, I was in my room smelling lavender and viewing the objects in my room. I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself from blowing up one of my plants again or, worst, the wall, breathing out slowly. I can handle one ex-boyfriend coming back, but not both of them. I rubbed my hands down my face before I finally fell to sit on the ground; the adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain from the attack started shooting waves around the spots.

Even with how heavy my arm felt and how much it begged me to put it down, I hand my hands on my face to cover my mouth and nose. I wasn’t aware I was crying until I had to gasp for air, moving my hand on my forearm to let myself breathe. I didn’t know when it happened, but the yellow light underneath my hands formed above me; I didn’t even bother to look up. Someone wrapped a blanket around me and pulled me into a hug; it was comforting, and I realized it was my father comforting me.

*****************************************

The early morning started shining to create another day in San Francisco; I was sitting on the step outside of the Manor, watching the night sky shift into the blue sky. I finally stopped crying and have been like this all night. My fingers folded onto my cheek, and the sweater I was wearing kept me warm. When my cousin Constantia sat next to me, she never stops by this early with anything.

“Are you okay?” She asked, rubbing my back, and I exhausted a deep sigh I didn’t know I was keeping.  
“Just another day at the office,” I transparently said, as I looked at my slippers and then back at my cousin.  
She bites the bottom of her lip before looking at the yellow folder on her lap. Deciding what to do until she finally handed it to me.  
“I found out something about the Winchesters. Open it when you feel it is right,” Constantia said, trying not to overwhelm me.  
“Two of my exes are back in town, one of which has a Lovecraftian Mythos as a delivery agent. I doubt whatever this is; it will not be at the worst thing I have heard this week,” I shook my head, doubting anything that could go wrong. I scratched the back of my neck, taking the yellow folder.

“Be careful around them,” She warned, and I looked at her.  
“I’m just saying that if they are like us. I don’t want my cousin to disappear,” She stood up, sighing before giving a weak smile telling me her goodbyes.

I stared at the folder for what seemed like hours, but in reality, it was just minutes—sighing as I pushed the current thoughts to the side of my head. Opening the folder, I arched my eyebrow, reading what Constantia had found; all of this made sense to me, of course. They were hunters, and that life wasn’t easy; I huffed out some air as I read that. Apparently, Dean was a suspect in a murder case and then is presumed dead; the only information I got about their father was nothing; I doubt he wants to be found. I’ll just work on finding the demon thereafter.

I sighed, closing the folder and standing up from my seat to go back into the Manor to get some sleep. I had demons to vanquish and innocents to save.

*****************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Each 'episode' takes me a bit to write I'm trying my best not to rush myself. This one was supposed to be published yesterday but due to personal reasons, it's only one day late. 
> 
> This 'episode' is dedicated to my father for introducing me to Lovecraftian Horror and inspired by HP Lovecraft's great works.
> 
> (( Disclaimer: I take no credit to any of the characters I did not credit, all canon characters are claimed to their respective creators ))


	3. 1.03 Wicca This Way Comes...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the arrival of the Dimensional Shambler, Pierson Griffin has only scratched the surface of his plan. Newer threats lurk in the shadows for the sisters to face, and with the unwanted attention of the Winchesters. They may have bigger problems than before. Can the sisters join together and vanquish the newer forces together? Or will the upcoming war keep them from each other?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, 
> 
> I apologize for the long hiatus, I, unfortunately, lost two family members in the span of a week and it had taken me back a bit. I did; have to rewrite this episode. The idea I have is to take a darker tone to match spn as charmed is a bit lighter. So, the original one i wrote was more inspired by charmed than both, so I came up with this. 
> 
> The creatures featured in this episode do not belong to me, Dimensional Shambler, and I won't spoil the new one, but if you do know then; please know all credit goes to the original owners. But, i wanted to do things that charmed and spn never really crossed over. 
> 
> Have a great day everyone,  
> Dany

**************************************************

The piercing screams could make anyone’s stomach twisted and turned with the depth of agony the cry made. It echoed through the hollow cave walls, sharp stones curved out cruelly to form some protection around an opening of smooth cave stone, damp from the drops of water the cave spikes dipped in. Some cave, floored with rainwater it had collected over the years of the unprotected entrance. But it wasn’t as if anyone dared come into this cave. Burned out cauldrons carved into stone pillars, ancient as the coals inside, hadn’t been lit long. Old furnishing worn to the bone and nothing left standing on any legs. Bookshelves were leaning in different directions with torn and tattered old tomes and scrolls as the last resting place for these ancient texts of knowledge.   
The piercing screams came from a carved slab of stone in the center of the room, runes, and symbols covering the cave walls and flooring. Pierson looked at the old chair that collapsed from years of neglect and then towards the room’s center. He’d imagine that the cave was freezing, threatening to give any exposed skin frostbite. 

A tattered cloth whirled with the only draft of wind, exposing not skin but bones of an ancient being. Its clothing was a long tattered robe, drained of color, and sewed with symbols of power. It was standing over the altar, blocking the view of the horrid voice screaming so bitterly for an ending of torment. Pierson didn’t know who this person was, but he assumed they belonged to the man by the discarded clothing.  
With one final ghastly scream, the cave grew ever, still with a silence that the wind did not dare disturb. The skeleton was floating above the runic flooring above that deceased corpse lying on the altar. The man wasn’t much to look at, and his face was frozen in the torment he experiences before his last moments. Dripping of crimson blood fell onto the runes below. They glowed, and before Pierson’s eyes, the corpse gasped for air it no longer needed.

“Have you come to marvel at my work? Or kill me for my crimes?” The skeleton figure’s spoken, turning slightly to reveal the fresh risen dead to rise more and hurrying off into the dark cave. Pierson could faintly make out the runic symbols sketched into that man’s skin before being engulfed in shadow.   
The skeleton’s voice was old and rusty as if it didn’t use it in years. Pierson imagined this is what an ancient book sounded like; he smiled towards the floating skeleton before him.  
“Neither,” Pierson smirked, raising both his hands in the air, shrugging towards the ancient being before him.  
The cold nibbled slightly at his fingertips but made no sign of being bothered by the wind. 

The skeleton raised its arm. The tattered robe left sights of its complete skeletal figure, jewelry laid on top of its bones, and where shoes once were, no longer existed. Its bony fingers clenched into a fist towards Pierson, gripping him with ungodly magic this creature processes raising him from his feet.  
“Came to offer your undead service to me?” The skeleton spoke, pulling Pierson towards him, floating to the side, and ultimately revealing the stone slab. 

The slab covered with blood from countless victims and a single blood-stained stone knife laid peacefully, waiting for its next victim to kill. Pierson looked at the skeletal figure as he floated towards the blood-stain slab.  
“Came to offer a deal,” Pierson spoke confidently and calmly towards the ancient being; as the words left his mouth, he stopped floating closer to the slab.  
“And what could a demon offer me?” The skeleton assumed with this new outcome of his guest or new servant.  
“The Warren Line’s magic,” Pierson smirked, and his feet greeted the stone flooring at the sudden offering towards the creature. 

The skeleton floated there. It was thinking, Pierson guessed, of the sudden silence. It had no facial expressions, and the exposed skull made it hard to demand that it was true. Suddenly, the skull’s empty eye sockets glowed with a mist blue flame, and its bones formed the same misty blue flame. Pierson guessed that he wasn’t welcome in this horrible place as he watched the skeleton move fast towards him.  
“The Warren Line would not so easily give up their magic, ancient it is, heavily influenced by good magic. Why would a worm think I would want such power?” The skeleton’s voice turned dark and ancient, echoing inside the cave, creating a booming effect. 

Pierson sighed, looking at the runic cave flooring; even he felt like a child being scolded by an elder but welcomed it. He looked up towards the ancient being and took out a flask before taking a swing of the contents. Pierson made a sigh as if it stung his throat but smiled, satisfied. 

“The magic can always be influenced by evil magic, too,” Pierson pointed towards the skeleton creature, licking his lips and making sure the alcohol wasn’t wasted.   
“It has been before. Just have to push it the right way,” A deep chuckle as Pierson walked closer to the skeleton. To meet its eyes of misty blue fire, staring into the non-existing reflection.   
“Khulkax, weakened by Evanore, imprisoned by that witch. I can offer you and your minions freedom to wreak havoc on anything you please. All I ask is the Warren Line’s destruction, take their magic, or kill them. It doesn’t matter, the great necromancer’s choice of play,” Pierson's speech ended with a smirk and another wisp of his flash, backing slightly away from the creature before him.

Khulkax thought for a second; its minions were always freed for what they wanted to do, bringing back usual gems and new targets. But it was bored with this constant creation of reanimating the dead. It wasn’t stupid either; it knew this demon was playing a trick on it. However, what the demon spoke was right; it had been banished from its lair from that witch, Evanore. Its phylactery was all it could save to keep itself alive, and perhaps working with this demon might be worth the bone ache.

“And in return, what do you seek?” Khulkax spoke, the misty blue flame nearly disappearing, peaking at the interest of what the demon wanted in return.  
“A world ruled by only the strong,” Pierson smirked towards Khulkax as Khulkax finally floated down to touch the stone flooring.

***********************************************************************

Spring break had started, and while I spent most of my days studying for after the break. I could say I was ready to graduate. I chewed a piece of toast as I scanned the newspaper job selection, circling ones that I would apply for and hope to achieve, at least to help earn some extra crash while I was on break. However, speaking old languages and knowledge in myth legends wasn’t exactly suited for regular daily jobs. The kitchen was quiet and still; the aroma of the batch of coffee I made surrounded the room.   
The kitchen door swung open, and Grams walked in with Grandpa. They smiled warmly towards me before Grams moved to the stove, and Grandpa sat at the old wooden table. I pressed my eyebrows together as I shifted the newspaper to flatten a more; his face riddled with wanting to tell me something. 

“Morning,” I confusedly said as I sat back into my seat as I looked over to my Grams, who was pouring two cups of coffee, and then again at my Grandfather.  
“Job searching is hard,” He started, and I gave a slight smile before growing more confused; he pressed his lips, looking up to his wife for some support before back towards me.  
“I have a spring break class, with students not willing to learn or miss a few classes,” My Grandpa continued after a moment. 

“And you want me to teach?” I asked, swallowing my piece of food, understanding more now, and I sighed.  
“I studied to be a college student teacher, not teenagers,” I mentioned before looking out of the window.  
“It’s only for the break; it’ll give you experience,” Grandpa mentioned, and I pressed my lips together, not entirely convinced.  
“Teaching magical teenagers differs from teaching human young adults,” I added, crossing my arms and looking back at him. “I can’t exactly put that on my resume. And it doesn’t exactly pay,”   
“She could always help me get the club off its feet again,” A man’s soft, cheery voice sounded as he opened the kitchen door and greeted us with a smile.

The man had short brown hair and a strong resemblance to Grams and Grandpa; he was slim but still well built. My Uncle Chris, my father’s younger brother. I stood up to greet him with a hug, which he welcomed and looked at his mother over my shoulder.  
“Prudence is in the sitting room; are you sure you don’t mind her staying for the duration of this?” He asked, making sure it was alright and he didn’t want to impose. I pulled away from my Uncle and smiled at him. 

“The Manor is home,” Grams said, reminding him of the Halliwell Family’s importance of being welcomed to stay any time.  
“I don’t know why you bothered buying that club again,” She said, placing the coffee cup in front of her husband. Uncle Chris gave a huff of a sigh.   
“It’s history, like the Manor,” Uncle Chris defended his mother’s old club before owning her dream restaurant. 

P3, from what I was told in my childhood, had live bands playing and relaxations after demon vanquishing with the original sisters. After my Grams and her sisters’ last ultimate battle. She closed it and ultimately opened her restaurant called Halliwell’s. As long as my memory would allow, I grew up there too. I didn’t know a lot about P3, but it meant a lot to him from my Uncle’s tone.  
Grams gave a huff of a sigh herself as she sat next to her husband as she looked at her second son and gave a warm smile to him.

  
“It will not be easy,” She warned and recalled from the nine-year-old experience she had previously owned the nightclub.  
Many magical events had happened in that nightclub, including a nasty incident with a demon that devoured young girls to give the band fame and popularity.   
“But, with hard work, you’ll be a great club owner,” Grams supported the thought before looking back at me.

“Don’t worry, mom; I’ll make sure the club is up to you and your sisters proud,” Uncle Chris reassured his mother.  
“I’ll check in around dinnertime to make sure everything is okay,” He said as he looked at his parents, getting a simple nod before smiling before leaving.  
“Do you mind watching Prue while we run some errands?” My Grams asked, and I looked back at her for a second.  
“Yeah, should be fine,” I reassured her as they both nodded; I felt as if they didn’t exactly believe me. 

  
  


The afternoon sun fell on the city of San Francisco, the purr of the Impala. The music of classic rock helped drown out the disappointment Dean felt being talked into coming back to this city. Sam had discovered in the newspaper many victims falling into being ripped apart. It surprised him. He convinced his older brother to go back to San Francisco with his premonitions. However, that didn’t stop Sam from knowing his brother didn’t want to be here. Not after last time with the Halliwell witches, he hadn’t exactly told Dean that his vision had them in it. Or didn’t know how to say his brother, who is stubbornly against socializing with them.  
“I want nothing to do with them,” Dean mentioned once as a warning as he turned down the music a little. 

He glanced at his brother, reading the newspaper in front of him, and saw his brother glanced up towards him.  
“Don’t think that’s possible,” Sam mumbled to his brother as he folded the paper away.  
“How many times do I have to say?” Dean asked, glancing at the road as he clenched his jaw.   
“They’re witches Sam, they shouldn’t be trusted,” He huffed, irritated from even thinking about going to talk to them.   
“Is it a bad time to mention that the detective on the case is a Halliwell?” Sam asked as he placed the newly folded newspaper somewhere in the Impala. 

  
Dean looked at his younger brother, trying to decide if he was serious or joking. But, either way, he wasn’t laughing at the poor joke. Sam expected Dean to stop the car and turn around to go off somewhere else. But the gruesome deaths of innocent lives, a case they would take. And it’ll be an excellent chance to ask Vanessa if she has found their father or not. 

  
“Are you joking?” Dean asked, still not convinced, and Sam shrugged towards his brother.  
“Constantia Halliwell,” Sam said casually and looked out the window.  
“It’ll give you a reason to see her again,” He mentioned playfully and not meaning too much by it. 

But, Sam knew his older brother and, well, Vanessa wasn’t that bad to look at; the only thing holding his brother back from it is that she’s a witch. However, Sam thought. Otherwise, Dean helped her twice, and it wasn’t an owe debt; he would have voiced his intentions early on. There was something else his brother was hiding from him.  
“I don’t want to deal with all of them,” Dean stated after a good minute before turning up the music, avoiding the situation even further. Just focusing on getting to the hotel they would stay.

  
  
  


Veronica sat in front of her younger sister as she watched Valeria taking a sip of coffee from her mug. The soft music in the cafe's background made the situation even odd; this was the place of Valeria’s work, a coffee shop close to her apartment. Her income source for the time being. For Veronica, it was a few more years of college, and it would set her to apply for the job she dreamed of; she couldn’t even muster up how Vanessa felt with job hunting.  
Not everyone is hiring for spring break, that was for sure. That wasn’t what was worrying Veronica; their older sister has been dealing with a lot more incidents than the two of them and hasn’t talked to them about it. To process the situations at hand, while she knows her older sister is strong enough to battle everything at once, she shouldn’t have to deal with it alone.   
“Worrying will not fix it,” Valeria spoke up as she put her mug of coffee down.

Veronica shifted slightly in her seat, putting her arms on top of the table.   
“Then suggest something to fix it,” Veronica spoke, uncomfortable when their older sister was dealing with struggles that both of them couldn’t exactly understand.  
“She’ll come to us in her own time,” Her sister answered, the answer not satisfying in the least bit.  
“We’ve been over this; she deals with her inner demons her own way,” Valeria added, noticing Veronica’s unsatisfying motion.   
“Nessie having an inner crisis again?” Constantia asked, pulling out a seat next to her cousins and setting her coffee down.  
“I wouldn’t be surprised. The new enemies popping up are powerhouses,” She added, taking a pack from the center of the table, opening it, and pouring the light sugar in her coffee before mixing it.   
“You’ve known her the longest; what do you think of this whole situation?” Veronica asked her elder cousin. Even though Constantia was only a year younger than Vanessa, she grew up with her and considered her a best friend. 

“Well, your sister is much like my grandmother, in the sense that she feels the most responsible. She’s the eldest. So, she has to be the most stable out of us. And that means pushing everything aside and dealing with everyone else’s problems,” Connie stated as she looked at her two younger cousins before giving a shrug frown towards them. “After your brother died. Nessie had to make sure all of us were safe. And between her ex-boyfriends coming back from wherever they’ve been, the hunters and powerful creatures that are rising. She doesn’t time to talk about it like we do,” 

“Just wish she’d talk to us,” Veronica said, taking her coffee to drink some of it.  
  


**********************************************************************

The sunset as the Winchester’s reached the room they’d be staying at. Sam opened the door and walked inside with his brother, placing the duffle bags in the room. Dean looked at Sam for a second as he unzipped his bag. Sam raised his eyebrow slightly as he put his computer bag on the single table inside the room. It wasn’t the same hotel they started last time, but it was all the same carpet, two beds, it’ll do for the current case.   
“You want to tell me what this is all about?” Dean asked, breaking the silence of the room.  
Sam looked up with curiosity at what he might, trying to act as innocent as possible.  
“What do you mean?” Sam asked, curious, continuing the conversation, trying to pull off the reason further away.  
Dean gave him a look that he wasn’t buying the innocent act.  
“Fine, don’t tell me,” Dean said, looking back at his unzipped bag, digging out clothing items and such.

“I’ll talk to them,” Sam offered, knowing that the tension is high; however, Sam couldn’t ignore the fact that they might know something about what is going on, and in that case, it would be good to at least talk to them.  
“There’s only one witness, her name Feriae Monroe,” He started before Dean cut him off.   
“No, I get that there is a case here,” Dean started before entirely looking at his brother.  
“You’ve been acting strange. Well, more than normal,” He sighed, looking away from his brother and moving to another part. “Sam, just tell me why we are here,” 

Sam took a breath as he looked at the hotel room’s floorboards. Thinking about the correct way of this situation. Before looking back up at his brother, clenching his jaw a bit.  
“You will not like it,” Sam put it, breathing out a sigh, and his shoulders sank as he looked at his brother. 

I was braiding my little cousin's hair as she was flipping through a magazine. It was an oddly quiet day, given the fact that every other week something new happens. Still, I wasn’t complaining at the peace that seemed to grace my family for at least a minute. The light sounding of crunching came from my cousin as she had a bag of chips next to her.  
“Grams won’t be pleased if you spoil your stomach before dinner,” I scolded softly as I tied her hair with a hair tie.  
“But, she’s busy with the restaurant, and we don’t know when she’ll be home,” Prudence said, looking up towards me as I stood up.   
“She’ll still be mad if you don’t eat properly,” I pointed at her, and she pouted before I made my way into the kitchen. 

Grandpa was still at Magic School, and Grams around this time is dealing with the restaurant. I moved around the kitchen to gather something for my younger cousin to eat other than chips. It was only a few seconds later before Prudence joined me in the kitchen, bored from the magazine she had been reading. I glanced at her as I turned on the old stove we use for cooking instead of brewing potions. Starting to work on the meal for us both, it only took a few moments before my cousin walked over to see what I was making. 

Of course, it wasn’t Grams cooking or a five-course meal, but it would do in the meantime, some good old-fashioned mac and cheese.   
“Can I ask you something?” Prudence asked, looking from the pot of now boiling water.  
“Shoot,” I responded, getting ready to stir the pasta, overseeing it to make sure it doesn’t bubble over.   
“Do you think you can teach me some magic?” She asked hesitantly, stopping almost before she could muster the rest of the sentence. 

I turned my attention fully towards her; this struck me as odd. Her parents were the ones that helped train at least her brothers in the sense of magic, and from what I was told, they enrolled her in the Magic School like all of us were.   
“School too slow for you?” I asked, trying to figure out why she would ask such a question.  
Prudence shrugged before fiddling with a dishcloth on the counter next to the stove.   
“More like struggling,” She mumbled, and I blinked even more confused at the situation. 

We trained all of our generations to use our magic comfortably and adequately, given the fact that most of our grandparents wished for us to have everyday lives. But, as the line grew, it grew with new magic in our veins to keep us from even dreaming of having daily lives. The examples of this are more common to our Aunt Paige and my father, Wyatt. They were born half whitelighter and half-witch; technically, my sisters and I are second-generation whitelighter-witches.  
But Prudence is a first-generation phoenix-witch, and I didn’t even know where to begin on even getting active regarding being a phoenix. It was odd to think that my Aunt wouldn’t have helped Prudence with her magic as one, as they have three sons with matching characteristics as their younger sister. 

I looked down, thinking of the right words to say or even trying to guess why she struggled so much. The only theory I had in my head is she is the only daughter of my Aunt and Uncle. Perhaps they fear her being killed by a demon, such as my older brother. The theory itself wouldn’t make sense since these witches' coven can come back from the dead, such as the creature’s mythology. 

“What I mean to say is that I’m barely passing my classes, and grandpa signed me up for summer school. I only barely control my magic as it is,” Prudence confessed as she wasn’t getting a response from me as I blinked, looking back at the pot to stir the pasta.

Now, it’s making sense. He asked to teach the class, and now this. Sometimes being half a whitelighter was tough. I put the wooden spoon on top of the boiling pot, horizontally keeping it steady but above the stream. I took a breath before turning to face my cousin, who was looking at the tile floor. As a half whitelighter, it’s a part of my responsibility to protect and guide future good witches, and that includes my own family. 

“Okay, I’ll teach you what I know, but just so we're clear. I don’t understand how to be a badass phoenix, so; we must entrust one of your brothers for that,” I responded, folding my arms and giving a slight warm smile.   
“They are off doing their own things; I’d hate to intrude on,” Prudence responded, and I smirked a little towards her.   
“Please, your brothers have been there since the day you were born. They would not hesitate to help you if you just asked,” I encouraged her as I looked over to the phone that was on top of a landing next to the door leading into the dining hall.  
It matched the counter's yellow cream and housed many books and other odds underneath its shelvings.  
“Or you could just call their name,” I said, turning back to the pasta, quickly picking up the wooden spoon to stop it from boiling over. 

Our conversation ended shortly as we both heard the doorbell rang. I pressed my eyebrows to symbolize it and confused me before I looked over at Prudence. It was getting late. The only people returning from the day would be our grandparents, or possibly a family member. I put my finger up before pointing at the pot to tell my cousin not to let it burn before wiping my hand at another impatient ring of the bell.  
“I’m coming,” I called loudly as possible as I made my way from the kitchen, which was located technically in the back of the house, through the hallway that led to the dining table. And all the other rooms and stairs leading to the upper levels of the Manor. 

Once finally at the main front door, I opened it to see who it was coming by this late. I froze, taking a breath before closing the door on who it was before closing the door. The answer was no, and I would not meddle anymore. Until the doorbell rang once more, and I crossed my arms.   
“You know I could just walk in, right?” His deep voice sounded through the door, and I clenched my jaw before locking the top lock.  
“Go away,” I said through the door before leaning against the furniture that was placed on housing our bags and other equipment.  
“You didn’t want to come back here,” I added as I glanced up to see Prudence eating a bowl of mac and cheese, interested in the turn of events. 

“Go upstairs,” I said, softly towards my cousin and pointing towards the ceiling.   
Prudence pouted slightly, but I held my ground, giving her a face that told her I would orb her up there. She sighed, annoyed, and dragged herself up the stairs as if it was against her will.   
“Look, I didn’t want to come back here, but what did you expect when something else treads into something we hunt,” His voice called; I could tell it annoyed him.  
I took a deep breath, looking back once I knew Prudence out of my sight. There was no casual way to explain that your ex-boyfriend summoned something from Lovecraft horror. Not to mention he has it under his control, and not knowing whether you can vanquish him again, even though you’ve already done it before. Especially to say a hunter that already doesn’t like you. 

“It's us or different hunters, Vanessa, now I can tell you they will not be as sweet as my brother and I,” I could tell it was the last try to convince me to open the door. I sighed once more before moving back to the front door, unlocking it and opening it up to look at him.   
“Dean, we have it covered, protector of the innocents okay, let us do our jobs,” I said; I protested, crossing my arms and looking up at him.  
He was wearing his usual look; a leather jacket, flannel, and a black shirt with ripped jeans and boots. Dean somewhat looked similar to the last I saw him, which is probably enough detail, in the sense that he was still attractive since then. Which, I doubt, wouldn’t change at all. 

“Because that’s working so well,” He said, not believing it a second holding up a newspaper with the death of Feriae Monroe’s ex-boyfriend that got devoured and disembodied by the Dimensional Shambler.  
“Two ways we can handle this, you tell me all you know, or we figure out and handle it ourselves,” He placed the newspaper next to him and waited for my response. 

Usually, I’d let hunters do their business in their hunts, but it was different this time. I wasn’t exactly sure how to address this issue at hand. We are trying to stop this creature, but the moral of the story is that it's under control. If we stopped it, then what's to say, Pierson wouldn't have contacted another.  
“I’d recommend you just leave it to us,” I finally responded, clenching my jaw lightly. I didn’t want them to get hurt, especially from a creature capable of ripping a body to shreds. 

Dean looked to his side away from me, telling me he didn’t like my answer, licking his lips as he looked back at me.  
“See, I can’t do that,” Dean responded, sighing to tell me it annoyed him.  
“This isn’t something we’d just leave. If you don’t give me something, I’m going to think you are responsible for this,” He warned, clenching his jaw, trying to get me to swing to his side.  
  
I responded to him before I heard a loud bang from the stairs, and suddenly it was the last thing on my mind. I instantly turned, moving as fast as I could towards the stairs.   
“Prue!” I called, turning to see my cousin on the landing close to the last of the stairs where you make the descent up.  
“Oh god,” I moved, seeing her going to her level, grabbing the sides of her arms. 

I was scanning her, making sure there weren't any wounds or any sign of damage. She looked unconscious, and I moved my hands to heal her. It suddenly started getting cold, and I heard the faint sounds of a whispering mourn growing louder. I pressed my lips, growing impatient as the healing was taking a long time.  
The amount of damage to my cousin was more massive than I thought, which meant it took longer to heal. But, in an instant, my cousin shot up, gasping for air and looking around in panic. I helped her up; it wasn’t long before she went behind me. 

“Prue,” I went to say before I felt the chill and my hair stand up before looking up towards the stairs.   
I instantly grabbed Prudence’s hand as the walls and the flooring covered in ice, the hallway leading to the bedrooms. I looked towards the attic filled with darkness, and I couldn’t make anything else out besides the ice forming. The whisper of mourning was coming from there, and I glanced at Dean.

“Dean, I would hate to bother you but could you please take my cousin outside,” I said calmly and collectively.   
Dean had his gun drawn, the newspaper gone, and he was staring at the upstairs. Ready to fire, in case whatever was up there would peak out, before looking towards me and my cousin clenching onto my arm as if she was going to fall off the edge of a cliff. He nodded, and Prudence looked up at him before she looked up at me.  
“Nessie, we can fight it together,” She pleaded, arguing to stay; I shuffled a sigh before turning towards her and eye-leveling myself to her. Putting my hand on her cheek.  
“Hey, everything will be alright. My job is to protect you right, don’t worry, it won’t know what hit it,” I said, shifting a smile towards Prudence as she sighs before swallowing before turning to Dean. 

I stood up straight, looking at Dean, and he looked at Prudence before looking back at me, giving me a look that he was on her side before I titled my head, giving him a look to listen to me. Before ultimately sighing, annoyed, and starting to take Prudence towards the outside. I watched as they reached the front door, with Prudence looking back at me before looking back up the stairs.   
I pressed my lips together before taking the steps as quietly and as slowly as I could. Something new was up there, and it wasn’t friendly. 

**********************************************************************

I folded my arms over my chest, trying to keep some heat in my body as I stepped on the landing leading into the rooms. It sheeted the entire hallway and old wooden doors with ice, and I raised my hand, sending little sparks of light to guide my way of where I was going. The house’s power was still working as the ground area still had lights, but something affected the lights up here.   
I could faintly make out my breath, turning into a cloud of cold air to match my surroundings. I pushed my gut feeling, telling me to turn back around and gain the support of my sisters. Mustering up the courage that I could summon, and continued my way down the hallway, trying to figure out where this thing was causing this. I stopped when the lights hit a wall of ice, blocking me from the attic stairs. Usually, I would rush to see if the book was okay, but I feel whatever this was, it wasn’t after the book. 

I placed my hand on the ice wall, didn’t know what I was expecting over it being cold, and could determine that they made entirely it of ice with one right tap from my knuckles. The feeling of something terrible that was going to happen kept growing more robust, yet I kept ignoring the feeling altogether. I’m a powerful witch capable of vanquishing demons and other entities that I may face daily.   
But nothing passed this point, and perhaps there was something I missed that was backward. Turning myself around, I saw a door shape cut out. Nothing but darkness was inside; however, my eyes were on the creature hovering above the ground, staring directly at me. 

Tattered clothing appeared to be just a robe, with frost claiming the remaining colors and what I could imagine kept it together. The figure floated above the floorboards, skinny as bones; in fact, I think it was a skeleton; as I raised my eyes to meet its empty sockets. It confirmed my theory, for a skull was all that was staring down at me.   
Suddenly two pale blue flames appeared to form its eyes, and I backed up, hitting the wall of ice honestly instantly. I raised my hands before flickering them, sending as many combustions as I could, trying to blow this creature to pieces. Still, with every flicker, it just raised its bony fingers and blocked my attacks as if it had some shield it could summon. With my back against the wall and the creature moving closer to me, I made my move to at least try to orb out of the situation I faced. 

However, it kept its hand raised, and pale blue light shined when I tried to orb. When I couldn’t, that’s when the air in my chest stayed still. I tried breathing out slowly to keep myself from panicking, but, as I had nowhere to go, fear was the only thing I felt. I felt frozen as if I was becoming an ice statue to match the hallway with its ice cover sheet. I couldn’t find any words to call for anyone, and all I could do was stare in fear at the creature inching closer to me.   
I didn’t even register it; the gunshots sounded suddenly, and as the creature appeared, it disappeared with the sounds, and the ice around the hallway and the lights turning back online. With the ice wall no longer there, I stepped back, solemnly finding my way towards the floorboards, trying to process the skeleton that was just here. 

“Vanessa,” Dean called, particularly rushing towards me, not standing where he was but to come over towards me.  
I heard the metal of his gun hit the floorboards and his hands on either side of my cheeks, raising my face to meet his own.   
His hazel-green eyes darted to either side of me as if to check for any sign of injuries that I may have received myself. I looked away, trying to regain my thoughts and look towards the floorboards. Pushing my hair back behind my ears as it was dawning on me that Dean was in front of me as my hands overlapped his hands.

“Vanessa,” He said, more calmly drawing my eyes back to his, and I took a breath.   
“It nullified everything, my orbing, my combustion, it was as if it knew what I was trying to do,” I swallowed, trying to process everything.   
Dean shifted to help me stand up and look around, scanning the area to make sure it was clear.   
“We’ll talk about it once you are safe,” He said, as calmly as he could, picking up his knife.  
Dean was firm, considering how fast he was and comfortable enough. He took me from where we were standing to his car.

I pulled away once Prudence came closer, and I went to hug her. She latched onto me instantly, keeping herself glued to me. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her there, trying to keep her as calm as possible. When I realized she was shaking a bit, I grew slightly upset, not at her, of course, but at myself. I sent her up alone upstairs, thinking it was safe; I should’ve known something would happen since the attacks’ activity was oddly quiet. I pressed my lips together and saw Dean lean on his car, gun put away, and he was looking at us before at the Manor. 

“I’m going to orb my cousin to my sister’s apartment and let my grandparents know not to come home,” I said to Dean as I continued to cuddle my cousin in my arms.  
“Let me drive you; it’ll be safer,” Dean offered, and I shook my head to let him know I meant no.   
“The less you have with my sisters, and including my Uncle, the better,” I responded, and I felt Prudence's grip on my shirt.   
“Can you take me to my mom?” Prudence asked, barely a whisper, and I held her close. 

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing her back and taking a breath before looking at Dean.  
“I’ll find you,” I informed him before starting to orb away with no more words exchanged. 

**********************************************************************

“She just left like that,” Sam asked, sitting in the chair looking at his brother sitting on the foot of his bed.  
“And the thing that attacked?” He followed up, curiosity.  
“As I said, she saw it. I only saw it for a second, but it wasn’t natural. But, whatever it was, it was powerful,” Dean answered, sighing.  
“Well, I can’t say they don’t have eventful lives,” Sam said, crossing his arms and looking at the file in front of him. “So, we have two separate cases now,”   
“This place is really something,” Dean added, standing up and walking over to his brother before shaking his head lightly. “I’ll work on this fresh case, and you work on the one we came for,”

Sam looked up at his brother, surprised by the sudden turn of events. Before they even started this, it took Sam nearly all he could to get Dean here, and now Dean will split off and work on the needed cases they were here for.   
“Just like that?” Sam asked, and Dean looked at his brother before waving him off.   
“Yeah, I know,” Dean answered, catching on with what his brother was bringing up.  
“But, the thing attacked a kid, and I’m betting we might be the only thing to stop this thing, so, yeah Sam, I’m playing nice for once,” Dean quickly defended, to which Sam smiled.   
“She’s grown on you that much, huh?” Sam teased, smiling bigger.  
“Shut up,” Dean responded, glancing at his brother before looking somewhere else. 

When the orbs formed to reconstruct our bodies in a new location, we were surrounded by darkness before the lights were flicked on. I almost didn’t realize that my cousin had moved out of my grip and turned on the lights.   
It was reasonably neat, with a layout that matched semi-well. A small tv next to a fireplace before everything else seemed familiar with the source of a normality of a family living here. Only two parents and a teenager lived here. Prudence moved around the apartment, looking for any signs of her parents. Ultimately coming to the verdict, they weren’t home. She grabbed my arm as I scanned the room once more, feeling a tuck. I knew where her father was, but it would be safer to put her in the same house as my sisters or Connie. 

It only took a second to orb to a new location. Once I did, Valeria was the first to grab hold of Prudence before Veronica grabbed my face. Knowing what happened and going through the whole routine of figuring out if I was okay or not. I grabbed both of my younger sister’s forearms, trying to calm her down. They took prudence over by someplace to sit with Valeria.   
“We are fine,” I tried to calm them and glanced over at Prudence.   
“Valeria said that whatever it was, wasn’t exactly fine,” Veronica mentioned putting her hands down and looking at their youngest sister before back at her older sister. 

A few hours of explaining to my sisters what had happened and presenting the situations. I stopped when I realized the time before looking at my sisters for a second with a little research and Connie’s joining.   
“I forgot I was going to regroup with Dean,” I said, standing up, gathering my jacket, putting it on, and Connie moved over to me.   
“Oh no, I’m coming with you; I want to meet this man,” Connie said instantly while looping arms with me, and I sighed.   
“While I appreciate the backup, I don’t think he’d like that,” I remarked, looking at her.   
“Too bad he’s just going to deal with it,” Connie smiled, and I rolled my eyes, knowing this might turn out poorly.   
“Uh, they are after the Dimensional Shambler; they might split off,” I mentioned, and Veronica sighed. 

“Then we help not get them killed,” Valeria answered as she looked at Veronica.  
I nodded before looking at Prudence, who finally had fallen asleep.   
“Monitor her,” I said, sighing lightly.   
“But, what if we need the power of three,” Veronica mentioned before I orbed.   
“Well, we’ve used our cousins as a step in for it; blood is blood, you have Prue; I’m sure Lucien will help if you call,” I said, giving the information to her to stop her from worrying.   
“And what if you need the power of three for whatever this is?” Veronica questioned, and I looked at Connie before back at my sister. 

“Something tells me the powers we have are going to have zero effects on this creature,” I responded. Trying to come to the reasoning and knowledge of what happened recently that still was fresh in mind.   
My sisters responded with a nod of their heads; I made sure we locked our arms with Connie. Before starting to orb toward the Winchester brothers.

Khulkax wasn’t too pleased about being interrupted. It nearly received two of the witches but failed to realize that they had mixed a whitelighter in the blood with the eldest, able to heal. It wasn’t expecting that, but I would prepare it the next time. It had half the want to go after Pierson for not telling it such an important detail. Still, it sighed with no lungs but the illusion of being irritated. Some bullets had hit its bones, but most of the runes remained in pleasant condition.   
However, it couldn’t say the same for its ruined clothing; the remaining bullets that would have impacted its muscles if it had them were destroyed by the spell. It had been cast previously to protect itself from harm. It moved its skeleton fingers into a ball and summoned a blue light before dispelling it into its surroundings. A blue shield formed and then matched to fit its skeleton body entirely. Khulkax knew that this would be an annoying sort, and it needed to be addressed appropriately. However, demons were undoubtedly unpredictable, but the skeleton remained wanting one thing: that Pierson had promised revenge.

During this process, it took care now to continue to draw attention from the witches. Still, it knew it had little time before they figured out what it was, which bothered the skeleton. With a way it’s hand, a void appeared that lead into stars and space, before stepping inside and appearing in a room that looked like an old wealthy English family lived here. But, it knew this wasn’t the case; Pierson just preferred to make it seem like he was better than all the rest by dressing his own throne-room into something related to the sorts.  
Smooth walls, expensive furniture, decor, everything to match, but the seat in the center of the room was all anyone would care to notice. Khulkax floated off the ground as Pierson stood up from his chair with a warm smile, readying himself to welcome the skeleton to his audience. It almost didn’t notice the other man in the room, but he had left before it had a chance of seeing his features. 

“Khulkax, this is a pleasant surprise. I hope everything is going as planned,” Pierson said, with the smile he held with such confidence and cockiness as any villain would proclaim.   
The skeleton said nothing, only held up its hand and dropped the bullets that had contacted its bones. The sound of metal from the shells echoed through the room. Pierson looked at them, falling, and blinked for a second before chuckling.   
“I knew she was smart, but I didn’t think they would have guns,” Pierson said, repositioning himself, but kept the smile.   
“She wasn’t the one who did this,” Khulkax asked, annoyed with his attitude. “She wasn’t alone. Magically beings, I’m immune to, but; humans have a better chance of stopping me. You know this, I want to be told who he is,” It continued before moving its boney arm towards its side. 

Pierson’s face had dropped; it had damaged a level of his ego. He wasn’t aware of any humans being around the Halliwell’s, only the ones that had married on. He raised his brow towards the company in front of him.   
“I’m sure the human has left by now,” He motioned to dismiss the remaining thoughts altogether.  
“Humans don’t stay long in that household,” He added, not showing he cared much about it.   
“I would not be so cocky on that matter,” Khulkax tilted its skull before turning, raising its hand once again, and opening the same door it had gone through. “He showed no fear in my presents, even for a simple moral,” 

Before Pierson could acknowledge anymore on the matter, Khulkax had disappeared from his sight. When he was finally alone, he moved back to his seat and sat back down. Thinking it over, normal humans would run from the presence of something as a floating skeleton. And Pierson knew that hunters rarely come to cities, especially ones with such darkness surrounding it.   
But he couldn’t help but think of it; perhaps a cocky hunter had wandered into this thick of the woods, which made him a little cockier. All they need is a little push in the right direction, and the witches would be hunted too. 

**********************************************************************

Pierson couldn’t remember the last time a wave of events indeed threw him off, but this one had taken first place. As far as he knew, hunters stayed far away from this city, and he hardly had encountered them. But the witches, the Charmed Ones, were the most common to face. If it weren’t for the trick he had discovered that Cole Turner had used, he would still be in the demonic wastelands. Pierson knew he could handle the witches by himself. Yet his dabbling in darker magic provided the unwanted attention to hunters. However, that didn’t mean unuseful; he could always use that to his advantage. 

Khulkax is a powerful wizard. If anything would be the actual downfall of the Halliwell’s, but with hunters involved, it couldn’t get close enough to it. Clenching his jaw, slightly annoyed with the turn of the plan, he knew he needed to get it back on track. Pierson stood, drawing the attention of the man he called second in command. He wore a full suit, had a shaved head with only some hair left to flop over it, and always had a cigarette in his mouth. His name was Morgan Blackwell, a powerful warlock and one of the last of his family. Morgan’s fingers took the cigarette from his lips. 

“It’s dangerous,” Morgan warned, blowing the smoke he inhaled before looking towards something else in the room. “You don’t know what they know and how close they’ve gotten with the witches,”   
“Exactly why I need to find that out,” Pierson responded coldly, stepping past Morgan, going down a hallway leading into another room. 

While Pierson’s nicknamed throne room was eyed as an old European mansion with a fancy chair, and the hallway matching with gold and white marble. The place he stepped into gave a distinct feeling; they carved crudely drawn symbols into the hard rock’s flooring. There were chains and cages lined to the walls, and on the furthest side was a homemade cut-out portal, to nothing but where Pierson thought of going. 

“We haven’t exactly tested if you are bulletproof or not,” Morgan warned again, following behind Pierson, sighed as he walked over to single shelving.   
“It’s why I’m not going,” Pierson informed before taking out a doll, turning to Morgan.  
“The art of magic is always such a touchy thing, wouldn’t you say?” He asked before walking over to a workstation. 

“If luck happens, it’ll be too early for Vanessa to discover I’m unkillable. I love knowing the fact that she will wiggle around, frustrated and annoyed, trying to find every shed of something to vanquish me. I don’t want to kill her yet, because well, frankly, I enjoy throwing things at her and her family that they can’t stop. It amuses me, but hunters, helping them, well, that’s something I can’t have,” Pierson added before placing the doll before him. 

Pierson waved his hand above the doll, and it grew with a pale light before an almost exact double stood before him. The doll tilted its head as it stared at Pierson, showing interest and waiting patiently for command. He didn’t have to say anything but waved his hand, telling it to leave; it instantly disappeared before he turned to Morgan.  
“I have a task for you,” Pierson started crossing his arms and looking across to the portal in the room. 

Morgan glanced towards Pierson before sighing, annoyed with knowing he had to do more. Things he already has to do before flickering his cigarette on the ground and stepping on it to put out the smoke.   
“I want you to calm our skeleton friend’s nerves on the matter at hand,” Pierson finished before moving to go back down to his throne room.   
Morgan took a breath before shimmering away, listening to his commander’s request. 

Once the orbs fell and formed our bodies; I looked around; the hotel was decent but could use a little work. But I wouldn’t judge further than that; hunters probably had limited access to money, which was the best they could do. At least, they were squatting in abandoned homes; Connie looked around as well before looking at me, keeping her arm wrapped around mine. 

“Please tell me you know where they are?” She asked as quietly as she could, and I sighed before gesturing to a vehicle in front of them.   
Connie looked before her, trying to see if I was joking. In front of us, the black Impala told me that at least maybe one brother was here, but I doubt Sam could use the Impala too much.  
“I’m sorry, how do hunters get a car like that?” Connie asked, and I shrugged in response before I walked away from her, breaking my arm connection from her. 

I went to the room door; I could sense them through before knocking on the door. Connie quickly followed but held her eyes towards the car, still figuring out how they got the car. I waited before looking at Connie and tapping her before giving her a look to pay attention for a second. Connie’s face moved with shrugging slightly and giving me a look that she just was trying to figure things out.   
Once it opened, I looked towards the door and gave a slight small smile, looking up at Sam before relaxing slightly before letting us in. The room was unfamiliar from what I remember, but the room’s detail didn’t interest me much. Dean is sitting in a chair in front of a stack of books and leaning back in the chair, realizing who came inside the room. 

“You can use doors,” He said, crossing his arms over his chest, and I rolled my eyes before looking at Connie.   
“Would you rather I leave and orb back? Because I can do that,” I said, pointing towards the door.   
“Or we can just call a truce and get this over with,” I looked back at Dean; I could tell from the rise of his chest he sighed before looking at Sam. I nodded before looking at Sam myself.   
“Connie will help fill you in on little details, but my sisters will help answer any of the factual questions,” I said to Sam before Connie held out her hand for Sam. 

“No,” Dean said, before rising from his seat; I could tell the tone in his voice was being protective over his brother; I used this tone of voice with my sisters.  
“I’m not sending my brother in a coven of witches by himself,” He continued looking slightly down at me because of our height difference. 

“I understand. But, I’m trusting my sisters with a hunter, and judging by it, you both are probably damn good ones,” I responded, crossing my arms and meeting Dean’s gaze.  
“How many times do I have to tell you we are good witches? We aren’t going to hurt you or your brother, but you will need my sisters if you hunt this thing. Ronnie can protect Sam; she could even heal him if he gets hurt. Val can predict things before they happen and can stop anything that might hurt your brother. And if you are still not convinced, and something happens to Sam, you can kill me,” I shrugged, and Connie snapped her head towards me. 

“Nessie,” She said; I raised my hand to stop her from speaking anymore.   
“I get it. I really do, Dean. All you know is that this could be a trap; it could all be an illusion. What do you truly know about any of us? You don’t know me; you don’t know my family and what we’ve done to ensure the safety and protection of human lives and the forces of good. But, we have two very evil things threatening to ensnare innocent people in its grasp to become the ultimate power. And we don’t truly know what we are up against, so we need your help, just as much as you need ours. So, I’m asking, trust me enough to help me and my sisters stop whatever these creatures are, and then go about our lives without crossing paths again,” I said, crossing my arms, keeping as much ground as I could. 

He also kept his gaze locked onto mine. If I guessed, he was studying my features, which was probably a long shot, but even I was examining him. Dean was completely serious, but it didn’t stop him from being attractive. His spiky brown hair and green hazel eyes were staring at me. Or, he was trying to figure out any signs to find any way to decide if I was lying or not.   
“Dean, it’ll be fine. It’s just research with the help of Vanessa’s sisters, I’m sure there is a connection between the two, but we need to at least meet them half-way with this case,” Sam cleared his throat, drawing his brother’s attention to him. Dean finally broke his locked gaze to look at his brother.  
“Anything goes wrong, you come back here,” Dean said, sighing lightly, displeased with the whole situation. 

Connie looked back at Sam as he looked over at her; she raised her hand again for him to take.   
“Try not to let go,” She said as Sam took her grip, and I watched them orb away. 

The stillness of the silence in the hotel that fell between Dean and me after his brother and my cousin left. You could almost make out the ticking sound of a clock in the room. I pushed my hair behind my ears before l looking around the hotel room. Honestly, I didn’t really care for the layout, but it was all I could focus on that wasn’t the energy of tension in the air. I heard Dean’s heavy footsteps move back over to the table, sitting down and taking a book from the pile in front of him. 

“Do you have any idea what this thing is?” Dean asked, breaking the silence, which surprised me.  
I figured it would’ve been me to break the silence first, but it was him.   
“Sorry, I didn’t exactly stop to ask,” I responded and gained a look from Dean that I smirked at.   
“That’s the thing with these demons, they just attack, and then either we survive or get kidnapped. And then it's up to us to figure out what it is and how to vanquish it,” I moved towards the table and pointed at one book.  
“May I?” I asked, looking at Dean. 

Dean sighed before nodding his head and turning the page in his book. I took the old book in my hands and opened it before moving away from the table, reading the texts on the page.  
“What is it you saw? It’ll help find what we are looking for,” He asked, breaking the silence again. I pressed my lips together, thinking back.   
“All I can remember is that it was dark and cold. There was this unnerving presence that something terrible was going to happen. I don’t scare easily but, whatever it was, it made me scared. There was this wall of ice blocking me off from the attic. It covered the whole hallway in ice, and as far as I know, it can teleport through a black hole. Which is probably the craziest I’ve ever sounded, but; I think it was a floating skeleton,” I said, sitting on the foot of the bed and flipping the pages of the book. 

“This is different for you, isn’t it?” Dean said; I looked up at him as he looked at me.   
“It’s possible that with all the demons we’ve vanquished over the years, newer things arise we can’t explain. So, yes, a floating skeleton is extremely different for us,” I responded, looking at him. 

  
  


The skeleton sat in its broken chair, in its damped, dripping cave. The pale blue lights not flickering in its eyes, its minion moved with a limp in his leg towards his skeleton master. Khulkax’s skeleton handheld its skull, propping it open to staying in its position. The minion’s master did not move, as if it was sleeping peacefully.   
“Master?” The minion called, voice shaky, and it bowed quickly. When the minion did not hear a word back, he slowly raised his gaze towards his master once again. 

The skeleton had not appeared to move and still held the illusion of being in a slumbering state. This confused his minion, and he grew more worried. Perhaps his master’s projection had gotten stuck by the Witch’s magic and couldn’t return. His minion moved slightly closer to his master.   
“Master? We have a visitor,” His minion once again spoke, bowing quickly and this time more loudly. Finally, hearing the faint crack of its master’s bones, as if it moved.   
“I am not in the mood to have company. I am thinking of ways to strike down the demon,” Khulkax’s ghastly voice sounded as it moved its skull to weigh on another side.  
“Meddling in the affairs of demons and witches tires me. The benefits of this deal are not in my favor, not yet in my favor,” It spoke with annoyance as if annoying flies had surrounded it. 

“Pierson has that effect,” Morgan’s voice echoed through the cave walls, lighting a cigarette in his mouth. He was staring at the skeleton on its throne, with not a flicker of fear in his eyes.  
“I’m afraid he might underestimate you,” He said, blowing out a cloud of smoke. 

The minion ushered away from his master but closed by as if he must return. Khulkax straightens its spine upwards before standing up towards the unwelcome guest, as Morgan puts the cigarette in his mouth.   
“The demon would be foolish to underestimate me,” Khulkax spoke with such displeasure and entitlement that Morgan had to smile.   
“Khulkax, the undying, the powerful sorcerer, able to cast hurricanes and plagues with a wave of its hand. Outmatched by a little witch, imprisoned in a cave with old books too old to read. Working for a demon who has no plan other than to take over the Underworld. To become its King and try to kill the Halliwell Line,” Morgan said, taking another draft of his cigarette.  
“Tell me. Why should a low-level demon become the King of the Underworld, that you so rightfully claim?” He asked, blowing out the smoke. 

“You think I have no plan?” Khulkax asked, floating down the steps to meet the man in front of him.   
“I think you’ve forgotten who you truly are,” Morgan answered, flickering some ash down next to him.  
“You’re a God, you don’t follow others, you order others,” He watched as the skeleton moved closer to him.

The skeleton stopped as if, for the first time, it finally realized that. In fact, it had forgotten the power it once held. The witch so long ago sealed it in this dreadful cave. Its own lair spent years and lots of gold on, wasting in the forgotten mountain tops, hidden safely from unfriendly eyes. Before, it reigned with such terror and such dominance that not even the bravest of knights could stop it. And here it was. Taking orders and helping a demon fulfill his own power gain. 

“I am imprisoned in this cage of mine,” Khulkax stated, it's flame blue eyes scanning the surrounding cave.  
“But you are right. I have forgotten my ways; I’m not the mastermind; I ways. Perhaps it’s time for my return,” It said; a puff of cold air came from its jaw, creating a false sense of it being able to breathe.   
“May I assist? Pierson was entertaining. But, I have no interest in Halliwell's. Frankly, I have no interest in ruling the Underworld either,” Morgan said, holding on to his cigarette and crossing one arm under his other.  
“What do you want?” Khulkax asked, curious, and looked at the man in front of it.   
“Isn’t it simple? I don’t want an idiot sitting on the throne of the underworld, sacrificing what little of us there are left,” Morgan answered, and to the point, Khulkax thought. 

Not that Morgan was wrong to say that the Underworld wasn’t what it used to be. Not since the destined Charmed Ones came to be. Vanquishing The Source of All Evil in their way, and many demons and warlocks in their path. Crumbled is what Morgan would use to describe it now; what remains are the demons smart enough not to get in their warpath. But, every so often, a new demon would try their hand at defeating them. And each time, failing, the Charmed Ones had families just as powerful as the originals, maybe even more robust. In return, their kin got involved and stopped the newer ones from raising.   
Of course, Pierson’s plan had interesting ways of facing Halliwell’s more modern generation, which gained Morgan’s attention. But Pierson wasn’t a smart man; he took projects from others, but Khulkax is a legend upon older Warlocks, and one Morgan would gladly follow. 

“My minions are not imprisoned here; I have a few playful ideas on what we can do. But, we must tell Pierson that I’m against him. For now, monitor him, discover a way to free me from this cave. And warlock, remember, I let you live. You wouldn’t want to betray me,” Khulkax ordered, raising a bony finger towards the warlock in front of it.  
“Betraying, you would be a foolish choice,” Morgan responded before bowing and shimmering away from the skeleton’s sight. 

***********************************************************************

Dizzy wasn’t precisely the word Sam would use for feeling how orbing felt to him. But the world spun around fast; it was the right word. One second he could make out the hotel room, and the next, a living room that was well lit and well-lived in. A couch, coffee table, and bookshelves lined the walls in the room, and next to it was a nice dining table that was closed to the kitchen. It was an apartment, and everything was shoved together. Picture frames scattered around, and piles of books on the coffee table and end table next to the couch caught Sam’s eye. Until he noticed the other two females in the room, he realized them from the Manor the first time he and his brother worked on a case here. Sam hadn’t fully introduced himself to them yet, but he could tell they already knew who he was as the tension in the room grew stiff. 

“You must be Vanessa’s sisters; I’m Sam Winchester,” Sam introduced himself before raising his hand for a handshake at either of the sisters.   
“Valeria,” Valeria said, giving a small smile and looking towards her older sister.   
“Veronica,” Veronica responded, slightly delayed but there. She was flipping through a book on her lap.   
“Oh,” Valeria said before moving away from the dining table to shake Sam’s hand.   
“Don’t mind her; she’s caught up in her own world,” She added, waving with her other hand and before long took her hand back. 

Valeria hesitated a bit as if she remembered everything she just saw in her mind, before looking up at Sam.   
“I’m sorry,” She sincerely said as she clenched her hands together before looking away.  
“No one should ever go through such things,” She cleared the air more before stepping out, going into the kitchen. 

Sam couldn’t understand what that meant and looked to Constantia for help, who struggled and sighed simultaneously.  
“Valeria is psychic; she can see everything that happens to anything when she touches it,” Connie explained before looking at her younger cousin.  
“Veronica is the one that can move things with her mind, but at a very advanced level that I don’t even think my Grams can master. It also makes her grumpy considering since she is the middle sister and is the middle ground,”   
“All of you have powers?” Sam asked, looking back at both of the sisters. “The entire line?”   
“Yes, and no,” Veronica responded this time.  
“But, I rather you know less than more,” She said, finally looking up towards Sam. 

Veronica stood up, finally closing her book, sighing lightly before placing it back on the bookshelf. Her full gaze towards the tall Winchester, before crossing her arms.  
“It’s a Dimensional Shambler,” She spoke before looking towards her younger sister.  
“It’s sort of like a hunter. We believe someone summoned it here. It’s able to travel through dimensions and take others with it,” Veronica hesitantly said, not too fond of the memories she shared with her own experience with the Shambler.   
“Okay, is there any way to kill it?” Sam asked, looking at each of the girls. 

“Honestly, we don’t know if we can kill it,” Connie answered before shuffling over to check on Prudence, who was still sleeping.   
“Aren’t you supposed to be watching over Vanessa?” Veronica asked, looking at her cousin.   
“Nessa is a big girl, pretty sure she can handle him,” Connie responded, before pulling a blanket over her much younger cousin. 

Sam didn’t realize the other Halliwell in the room, lying on the couch asleep before Connie walked over. He looked down at her; she must have been sixteen; the trust Vanessa has shown to him just now was too high. He wondered if he didn’t do the research beforehand. If he would ever be in this situation, he wouldn’t harm a child, neither would Dean, no matter what species they were. Still, the thought of him and his brother almost going after her elder cousins made him a little relieved he did the research. 

“This is Prudence, and I’m Connie,” Connie responded, looking up at Sam. His eyes now draw to hers.  
“She was attacked by the same thing that attacked Vanessa.” She added, looking back down towards her cousin.   
“Which is stupid; we should be there. We are her sisters,” Veronica protested, and Connie gave a silent sigh.  
It was obvious to Sam that this was an ongoing problem, it felt like. 

“Nessie doesn’t know what this is; she doesn’t want us in danger,” Valeria chirped in from the kitchen.   
“She’s going to get herself killed,” Veronica responded, crossing her arms in a huff. 

It was clear to Sam how much this family cared about each other. He couldn’t count how many times he tried to convince his father they were better off working together. In fact, Sam imagined the sisters were stronger and better together than working alone and the best decision not to interrupt the family’s conversation.   
“If she needs us, she’ll call us,” Connie started looking towards her cousin. “She’ll find her way back,” 

“We need to vanquish the Shambler,” Valeria reminded her older sister before turning on the stove and placing a pot on the burner.  
“And that is what we can do,” She looked at Sam.  
“It’s true; we don’t know how to kill it, we are not even sure it’s a demon, we haven’t been sure since the Netherwraith. Our demons are getting stronger, the creature that attacked earlier tonight. Vanessa said it dulled her magic, her powers; she couldn’t orb, she couldn’t freeze if it weren’t for your brother. She would be dead, but we have no idea what it is, what it wants, just like the others before,” 

“So, what we are trying to say is, we are under-equipped in dealing with this kind of stuff,” Connie added, before looking at Veronica.  
“We need to vanquish it, and learning from hunters might be the only situation to our survival in vanquishing newer, more powerful beings. It’ll save a lot of lives,” She spoke, looking back towards Sam.   
“Well, I can try to help. But, I’m not sure how to kill a Shambler just yet,” Sam answered, nodding his head. 

  
  


That ticking sound of the clock annoyed me to my core. The silence surrounded the entire room, and I finally located the clock and was staring at it, ticking away. Sometimes the ticking would be interrupted by the sounds of Dean turning the pages of his book, and other times it dragged on. I felt as if he knew I was staring at the ticking clock, annoyed by it, and he wanted to see how long it took me to throw it out a window. 

I felt the leather of a book on my lap as I stared at the hands moving; what is the point of being able to freeze time if I can’t freeze an annoying clock? I glared at it for a second before finally turning my gaze away from it. Standing up and walking towards the stack of books on the table and placing it on one of them.   
“I’ll be back,” I said, counting my head in calming me down; that way, I didn’t sound too grumpy amid the clock.   
“You really want to take a walk now?” Dean asked, finally looking up at me from his book, which surprised me he was even taking it seriously.  
“Floating skeleton, trying to kill you,” He reminded me. 

“Okay, well, if you want a hole in the wall where the clock is. You’ll let me take a walk; you could come with me. Sure, you need a break, too,” I offered before pointing up at the clock to get my point across.   
Dean stayed silent, and the ticking noise continued before I moved away, taking it as a sign that I was free to go and that it was a hard no on taking a walk with me. I grabbed the doorknob before I heard heavy footsteps following behind me.  
“Say nothing, but I really don’t feel like having a coven of witches on my ass if you get hurt,” Dean said as I looked at him as he pulled his jacket on and pulled open the door. 

I followed him, closing the door behind me and trailing alongside him as best as I could. If I didn’t know any better, I was growing on him, which made me smirk slightly. The air was calm, and it was chilly out, but we had our jackets, thankfully. I almost instantly forgot about the ticking noise once we were outside; I did my best not to look too much at Dean. Maybe if I stared too long, he might think I was thinking of casting a spell on him. 

“To make this less complicated and awkward. I’ll be honest; any questions you have, I’ll answer truthfully. I get it; you don’t get many good witches; there’s far too many of them that want to abuse their powers for personal gain, and if need be, harm. So, the ground rule is that I’m completely honest, 100% truthful. If in return, you trust me, just a little. Deal?” I broke the silence this time, looking over at Dean, who looked back at me.  
He was once again silent as if he was trying to decide the right action until he gave a sigh and looked ahead of him.   
“Deal,” He mumbled and kept his gaze ahead of him. 

I smiled lightly in response before looking ahead myself. I want him to take from this because my entire family and I have been fighting this good vs. evil fight since our first ancestor. And that I would like to believe that there were hunters out there that gave others a chance to explain or even show that there aren’t complete monsters of what hunters made them out to be. I just wanted Dean to know he could trust me in a situation that I could help in, and I wanted to see that I could trust him in the same case. 

  
  


***********************************************************************

The cold air, the vapor from his breath, made it seem real to him. The rushing of blood, the feeling of his heartbeat in his chest, confirmed it even more. The city of San Francisco, dark, quiet, and asleep, making it the perfect time in his opinion to rise from the dead. There stood men and women in white and golden robes staring at him. He didn’t even notice he was standing on the Golden Gate Bridge, but that didn’t matter to him. A. All that mattered to him was seeing his family again. 

“We’d hope it was still far away, but it seems it's gotten close,” One woman said; these were Elders, whitelighters were in charge of the greater good. His brown eyes were looking towards her, retaking a breath.   
“Your sisters cannot face this darkness alone. We are afraid the power of three isn’t powerful enough,” Another Elder spoke, and he looked down, understanding everything.  
“We brought you back in hopes it will complete a more powerful Charmed Ones,” The Elder continued, and he turned to him.   
“It's not like the Elders to give our family something back,” He said, clenching his jaw, knowing the full history of everything that happened in the past. “You brought me back. Just to hurt my family again?”   
“To save your family,” The original Elder spoke, and he sighed before looking out into the bridge. 

He stayed quiet before white and blue orbs, letting himself teleport towards the familiar feeling he knew well, even if it had been so long. 

When we were back in the hotel room, Dean scratched the back of his head before looking at the books before him and then back at me.   
“Something tells me we will find nothing out by it,” Dean said, sighed, the lack of information annoyed him, and I pressed my lips together.   
“There’s always something. We just need to find it,” I reassured, offering some idea of hope not to give up entirely. 

Before any more conversation happened, Pierson shimmered into the room, throwing a fireball at Dean. I move instantly, pushing him out of the way and taking the fireball’s hit, hitting the wall and falling to the ground. I moved slightly, ignoring the pain, raising myself, flickering my hands, blasting Pierson back into the other wall. 

“Dean, go!” I yelled, stumbling up and flickering Pierson once more, keeping him down there.   
“And leave you?” Dean objected to the idea, and I pressed my lips once more, flickering my hands, not giving Pierson a chance to get up.   
“Dean, if you don’t leave, I swear to God I will orb you out,” I tilted my head, annoyed with him. 

I flickered my hands once more. His resistance is high, just as mine is, but Dean didn’t have a natural protection that I did. This time Pierson waved his hand, causing my blast to deflect from his palm. That wasn’t good; I watched as he stood up, glaring. Annoyed, most likely from the caused explosions, throwing another fireball. Still, this time at me, I gasped, flickering my hands, causing it to freeze in front of me, just before it hit my chest. I held my breath before looking at Dean, deciding what to do.   
“Don’t you dare,” He said, looking at me, knowing what I decided on doing.

I tilted my head before looking at Pierson, flickering my hands, freezing him in place, watching him move to adjust to my freezing power. I turned to look at Dean, waving my hand. I wasn’t my father, but I could muster up enough energy to at least orb one person by themselves without me. Dean was going to hate me, but at least I knew he would be safe. However, in that second, another fireball hit me, knowing Pierson adjusted and was unfrozen. I hit the wall again, falling to the ground, groaning a bit from the pain this time. 

I moved slightly, trying to get up. I heard Pierson's footsteps coming towards me before being lifted off the ground, pushing me against the wall until I hit twice. The only thing that bugged me is why now, why would he attack directly. It didn’t seem the best time to strike. 

“Who would’ve thought you would protect a hunter,” He gritted through his teeth, moving his grip onto my throat, my fingers trying to wedge themselves from his palm that was meeting my neck.   
“Who would’ve thought you were stupid enough to attack a hunter,” I responded, staring into his dark eyes. 

His grip tightened around my neck, and he tilted his head, obviously not happy with my response. It relieved the pressure when he was thrown to the side, and a wave of energy turned Pierson into dust and moved the furniture back. I swallowed as I rubbed my neck, looking at the pile of ash, thinking that perhaps my father took him out. Until I looked back at where the attack came from, all of my air caught in my chest, and I blinked once, trying to think if the person was real or a ghost. 

“Matt?” I mustered, shocked, trying to figure out what was going on.   
There stood my older brother; I didn’t summon him into this world, nor did I think he would appear out of random. He looked at me, swallowed before looking down at himself, looking back up at me. 

“Hey, Nessie. Yeah. It’s me,” Matt responded, smiling at me and still shocked at this encounter. He slightly stopped smiling before moving closer to me.  
“But why?” I asked, moving my hand, tapping his shoulder, making sure he was real before pulling him into a tight hug.   
“It’s a long story,” He said, taking a step back now expecting a hug but welcoming it. 

The door suddenly opened, causing Matt to pull away, ready for another, before Dean stepped in. Dean stopped, looking at the mess in the room. Matt moved me behind him, protecting me just in case something was going to happen. There was silence as both of them tried to decide who should talk first. 

“Who are you?” Matt asked, being the first one to break the silence. Staring intensely at Dean, trying to predict any of his movements.  
"Could ask you the same thing," Dean responded towards Matthew.   
"Matt, it's okay," I said, grabbing his arm, trying to calm my older brother down. "I orbed him to protect him,"   
It surprised me how long it took my older brother to stand down. I looked past him to Dean as my brother moved. Walking towards the pile of ash.  
"I'm sorry," I quickly said, as Dean moved closer to me, staring toward my brother. 

I could tell just by the look on his face he was beyond furious with me. I understood, being orbed unwillingly wins any favors. His eyes finally moved towards mine before looking away from me. 

“Look, I’m sorry, okay,” I tried saying; I frowned, I regretted what I did, but I needed to get him away from at least Pierson. “But, he would’ve killed you. I was only trying to protect you,”   
“By getting yourself killed?” Dean asked, staring toward my older brother. 

Dean was getting blurry, and the adrenaline from my body felt the effects of the two fireballs I got hit with. I touched my chest, adjusting it to see the fresh blood and the charred surrounding my skin. 

“I have a tolerance for them; you don’t. He would’ve turned you to ash,” I responded, pressing my lips together, feeling woozy but holding my ground.  
“I can’t heal ashes, Dean,” I added, blinking that way he stopped being blurry to me.   
“Sit,” Matt said; I didn’t notice him coming back over to me and moving me to sit. “It’s also stupid that you would take him on alone without the power of three,” 

Matt raised his hands above my wound, as the golden white light appeared in the palm of his hands, the injury shrinking with the healing process. I was feeling better, and I pressed my lips together. 

“But, we’ll talk about this later. We deal with Pierson,” Matt said, putting his hands down after the wound finished closing up.  
He turned back to look at the pile of ash.   
“It won’t be that simple,” I responded, putting my hand on my neck and staring at the pile of ash.  
“He’s a pile of ash now; why isn’t that simple?” Dean asked, looking in the direction that we were looking for. 

“Because Pierson doesn’t attack blindly. He thinks his attacks through, this isn’t the first time he has sent a doll, and it’s not going to be the last,” I responded, to which I stood up, and crossed my arms.  
“My guess is he found out that hunters are in town, whatever attacked me earlier tonight. Probably, reported to him about hunters being in town, which you and your brother should probably leave,” I added, looking towards Dean.

"How do you know this?" Dean asked, looking towards me.   
"I vanquished him before," I told him and looked at Matt.  
I wasn't going to tell Dean that I used to date Pierson before he tried to kill my sisters and me.   
"Or at least I thought," I mumbled, looking down at my hands. 

***********************************************************************

  
  


Pierson had felt this pain before when Vanessa and her sisters had vanquished his double. It was strange to him, however. He fully knew his former girlfriend’s powers; she didn’t have the firepower to vanquish him by himself. As far as he knew, Wyatt, Vanessa’s father, wasn’t in the city as well; it left him wondering who had this much power to vanquish his doll. It didn’t matter to him anymore; he needed to treat this as it had always been. 

**_War_ **. 

The slam of the double doors leading into the other room clarified Pierson was on the warpath. First, he entrusted Khulkax to kill the witches and failed to do as told. Now hunters were being protected by the witches made this matter even worse. Not everything was lost into the void of failure; he wouldn’t have started his attack unprepared. Pierson had four years pretending to be dead to create his plan, and only minor setbacks are just making the thrill of it all worth the final product. 

Pierson moved closer to the crudely homemade portal, putting his hand through it. He hadn’t really stepped out of his throne room since the first doll failed him. But, eventually, he’d have to get his hands dirty, and nothing made him happier than the thought. His wicked smile spoke dangerously as he walked through the portal to the other side. 

It was still night, but the morning sky crept through, telling Pierson that the early morning welcomed the world. The cars moving across the roads said to him that people were starting their way towards the workplace. That didn’t interest him one bit; he took one good look around before blinking towards the location he needed to be. 

The apartment, still dark and no signs of life, but Pierson stood in the reasonably neat living room and kitchen with the dining space. He thought the residents must have been still asleep. 

He crept towards the master bedroom, not caring about any detail in the room. Pierson knew who lived in this house; he had been here for dinner once or twice. But that had been a long time ago. 

The master bedroom ajar opened proved to him that their kids believed monsters lived under their bed. But, he knew they were gone, off to college or some other place in the world. Pierson had quietly opened the door, seeing the couple lying in bed. Asleep, no less, probably enjoying sleeping in for a change. 

Pierson raised his hand; he had no remorse, no emotion towards his bidding. The cracking of the bed, the gasping of the air that would not reach the couple’s lungs, made him feel nothing. Or at least happy with the thought that this would send the right message. Two for two, two dolls she had vanquished, and in return, two family members would pay the place. 

Raising his hand quickly stopped the stops, the gasping, the cracking. The sounds stopped just as soon as they began. Pierson moved towards one side. 

Henry and Sierra Mitchell didn't move, eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. Their breath is not moving their torso to show the new oxygen going into their system. 

Pierson’s eyes moved towards the nightstand. There rested a cellphone. He took it in his hands, flipping it open, scrolling towards the familiar name. When he pressed enter, he placed the hearing part next to his ear and listened to the vibrations to call the other person. 

“Uncle Henry, this is a surprise. It’s everything okay? It’s early,” Her voice chirped, happy that her uncle had called her. As if she was a bird, but lukewarm and inviting.   
“I’ll make it fast, Nessa. The longer you live, the more family dies. You should, uh, get in the habit of wearing black for a while,” Pierson coldly responded, looking at the corpses of the couple in bed. 

A smirk played on his lips as there was silence as if it caught Vanessa up in thought. As if she didn’t believe the voice on the other end, he chuckled. Wanting Vanessa to hear the pride he had in what he had done.   
“Welcome to the true battlefield of good vs. evil,” He said, smiling proudly and his ego feeling up to the stars. He pulled the phone away, closing it before Vanessa could respond.

  
  


***********************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (( Disclaimer: I take no credit for any canon characters; all original characters I create I do take credit for everything else goes to the respective owners ))


	4. 1.04 The Sounds of Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pierson has declared war on the Halliwell bloodline by killing two of their own. Now, with the revival of the sister's elder brother, revealing that the sisters hadn't been bonded for a long time and that the Power of Three is at risk with them being apart. Can their brother repair their bond before the sounds of mourning grow even more? Or is their bond broken beyond compare?

**************************************************

All Halliwell’s had one more thing in common, besides being a line of good witches. They all dreaded the day a demon out powered one of them. They all dreaded being killed by some evil entity from their line of work, and each one of them dreaded the funerals of burying their loved ones. 

The Halliwell’s were an odd family, but closer than most families would've been. Not that they didn’t have their struggles. However, facing demons always had brought them close, but it could also break them apart.

The powerful demon, Pierson, killed Henry Jr and Sierra Mitchell. Henry Jr. was the adoptive son of Paige Matthews and Henry Mitchell; their son was human and his wife and kids. Nothing prepares anyone for losing a family member, especially the loss of a child. Outliving your child hurts more than anyone who hasn’t experienced it realizes.

Paige had saved Henry Jr from the womb, his biological mother killed by a demon the Charmed Ones were fighting. She had tried her best to keep his mother, focusing all of her attention on Henry and his mother. But only Henry Jr. survived. With a lot of convincing towards Paige’s husband, Henry Senior, they named the newborn baby boy. They agreed to take care of him, as Paige was adopted and felt most responsible for Henry Jr.

It was never like that; however, Paige and Henry loved their new son, and with it, we welcomed a new Halliwell in the family. However, Paige knew the risks; all of them did. It was a part of who they were as a family. The sisters’ mother was a victim of a water demon when they were young, and the demon assassin almost killed Prue. They experienced heartbreak and pain but could bring themselves together. Something I forgot to learn.

Losing Matthew to a demon brought almost unbearable responsibilities. I had always been a younger sibling to start, knowing I wasn’t powerful enough to vanquish even one demon. Proven to me that if I couldn’t protect my older brother, then I couldn’t save any of them. We are stronger together, and I know that. But the thought of losing my sisters, losing a family member that I’m facing today. It was enough to keep them away from the demonic attacks and newer threats.

The day was oddly sunny and warm, not ideal for a funeral, to my perspective. We all were here; every member of my family sat in chairs wearing a sea of black. The only times we gathered were for the holidays or birthday parties. However, today it was different; we lost two of our own.

We were all close; we all had our reasons and our experiences to be close. I was close to them, even though they were my cousins. They were more of my Aunt and Uncle than most. Henry Jr. was the seventh oldest of my father’s generation and the last boy to come into the family.

My mother’s hand gripped tightly with my hand; as we watched, our father stood up from his seat. He hated speeches, either, since Matt died. He hated being the next in line to take charge, but he had to. And while I prepared myself mentally for the outcome of possibly being the one to speak next, my stomach turned. I hated funerals, ever since I lost my first innocent, and ever since Matthew was killed. But, yet, he was alive, and it felt like a dream, and I hoped I wanted so much to believe that this was a nightmare and I would wake up, and they would be alive.

My father cleared his throat before looking down at the podium, trying to gather his thoughts. I remember when my father had an optimistic perspective on everything until he lost his only son. And while Matthew wasn’t a part of the funeral, or was, I didn’t look around long enough to figure out all who was here and wasn’t.

All I knew was that our family lost two of its own, and they laid peacefully in front of us, in their coffins. With quiet sobs and the tears being wiped from their eyes, and god, that awful silence. You didn’t need to be an Empath to feel that horrible feeling of mourning a lost one.

If I had to be honest with myself, I couldn’t quite remember everything that happened once my father stood up. But, I blinked, and they gathered us at the Manor, mingling with our relatives, friends, and ourselves, speaking of memories we shared. And, of course, the condolences all around. Like, previously, all living family members had flown, teleported, or orbed to pay their respects and support in this turn of events.

Rohan Mitchell is the oldest son of Henry Jr. and Sierra, but my younger cousin, Veronica’s older cousin. He had short brown hair, light eyes, and robust features matching his father.

Felix Mitchell is the second son; he is the same age as Veronica. He had almost black hair with dark eyes; he gave vibes of being Tom Riddle vibes when he was younger but denied any relation to us at all.

Vivian Mitchell is the only daughter and the youngest of her two elder brothers; she was one of our younger cousins, being only eighteen. She had brown hair with brown eyes, and her features were soft but firm.

Those three were human, and what I became to worry over the most. Rohan lives in Boston during his studies. It surprised me when Felix came; in fact, I realized as odd that he would be in the same room as us. Vivian was the first on a flight here; my father had delivered the news to everyone. I knew from experience that Felix would be the most difficult to protect, which made matters even worse.

“Well, it's nice to know you haven’t changed, V,” Lucien, Prudence’s older eldest brother and perhaps my second best friend, mumbled to grab my attention.

Lucien plopped down on the couch next to me and looked over at what I was looking at before settling himself in the cushions.

“I know you want to protect Felix, but he isn’t going to let you,” Lucien mumbled softly, sighing in displeasure. He knew exactly what I was thinking, which made me uncomfortable.

“I own it to Paige,” I softly responded, closing my eyes to rub my forehead.  
“Paige understands,” Lucien responded, looking at me and giving me a side hug. “The best thing you can do is by vanquishing the demon who did this,”

Lucien Halliwell is my Uncle’s Chris son, and took on being a brother to us, while he has two younger brothers and a sister. After our brother died, he made sure we had someone just as remotely close to a big brother as we had. Since our Aunt Melinda had three daughters, Lucien knew he would be the eldest boy of our batch; he wanted to replace being the elder out, but since I was older, I became it naturally, and since then became a voice to guide me in it.

Because of our whitelighter halves, while we weren’t as strong as our parents, we still had strong characteristics, and they gave only a few whitelighter gifts to us. My sister and our Aunt Melinda's children were examples of this. The only way we could figure out why only my siblings and I had our whitelighter gifts was probably since our father is incredibly powerful. However, the only expectation of these powers is that it split from the four of us. Our only standard power is Orbing; the only reason I’m thinking of this is that I can heal. But, unfortunately, I couldn't heal the dead, so I started looking at my hands.

“Try not to blame yourself too hard,” Lucien mumbled, rubbing the side of my arm, keeping in a side hug.

When it started settling down, I pressed my lips, flipping through the Book in the attic. I knew Pierson wouldn’t be in the Book, but maybe something would help vanquish him for good. There had to be; there always would be a way to vanquish something. I closed my eyes, sighing before continuing to flip through the pages.

“Burying yourself in the book isn’t going to solve anything,” Valeria’s voice sounded in front of me; I glanced up at her. She stood in the doorframe, looking at me.

We are still wearing our funeral attire, black dresses, and heels to match. I looked back down at the book before moving away from the stand it was resting on; I went over to the table with the brass cauldron on top of it, with a portal store and all I needed to mix potions. I uncorked one vial before taking the ingredients out, throwing it into the cauldron. 

“Vanessa,” Valeria mumbled before quietly walking closer to me.   
“I don’t want to talk,” I quickly mentioned before taking another ingredient. It was the least important thing right now.   
“You cannot vanquish Pierson, by the Power of One. Our magic isn’t built that way,” Valeria said, looking at the potion I was mixing.   
“I’m powerful enough for it,” I mentioned, throwing another ingredient in.

“No, you aren’t,” Valeria said, taking my wrist to stop me from doing any more. “Because it isn’t you, it's us. V, we are stronger together, The Power of Three. We vanquished him together, not by yourself,” She said, trying to meet my eyes to get me to look at her. 

“Ever since Ronnie got hurt, you’ve been acting out by yourself. I know you don’t want to lose one of us, but did you ever think about what it’ll do to us if we lost you?” She mentioned letting go of my wrists when her eyes got mine to look at her.   
“It’s not your or Ronnie’s job to protect me,” I recalled before Valeria’s tilted her head and she crossed her arms.   
“It’s the bound, Vanessa. That protects all three of us,” Valeria responded quickly back. “I think you had more than enough time and people to tell you that,”

“I agree with Valeria,” Matthew’s voice chirped in, it was behind me, and I closed my eyes, and I restarted working on the potion.   
“Pierson is my problem, okay.” I motioned for the conversation to end.   
“No, it’s our problem,” My brother defended, crossing his arms and moved to watch me mix the potions.

Valeria couldn’t figure out why this man seemed so familiar to her, and it confused her to no end. Matthew looked at Valeria and smiled at her before looking towards the attic door, expecting Veronica to come through any minute to console Vanessa into trusting her siblings.

“You were learning how to read the last time I saw you,” Matthew said, looking at Valeria again. “Of course, that has been a while,”  
“You didn’t bring him back?” Valeria asked, looking at her older sister, knowing exactly who this is now. Her older brother, and to her knowledge, thought he was dead.   
“No, the Elders did that,” I mumbled. 

Matthew stood there, smiling as Valeria looked back at her older brother. Still, not believing that he was back, she knew they could summon the dead, but The Elders brought him back. Valeria knew it had to be a bigger problem than what they are facing. She looked back at her elder sister again before shaking her head.

“You have the Power of Three with Matt,” I mentioned and threw the last of the ingredients into the cauldron and watched as a minor explosion and smoke came out of the cauldron. I started bottling up the potion before corking the newly filled vial.

“No, the Power of Three remains with you and your sisters; I’m not destined to have the Power of Three,” Matthew mentioned.  
“Well, it’s going to have to switch,” I said, tilting my head before moving away from the cauldron and them.

I was going to change, and then I was going to scry for Pierson. I heard the footsteps of my siblings coming more to argue with me. I opened the door to my room, and Matthew stopped outside my door as my sister went inside the room with me.

“I’m not letting you do this by yourself. Veronica!” Valeria said before calling our other sister. I sat the potion bottle in the drawer that housed most of my clothes.   
“Pierson wants me dead, not you two,” I responded, getting casual clothes I usually wear to vanquish a demon.

I turned, setting them down on my bed, and orbs formed Veronica, and she looked at the both of us before getting an idea of what was happening.  
“No, you aren’t doing this by yourself,” Veronica argued, and I sighed, getting annoyed with them at this point.   
“I will do this myself,” I forcefully held my ground as much as I can, picking up my clothes.   
“No, no, you will not today,” My mother’s voice said from my door, and I looked over to her, standing there with my brother looking inside now with her.   
“Mom,” I responded, and she held up her hands at me; I instantly stopped talking.

“You will not be vanquishing this demon by yourself; it’s best if you tell your hunter friends where you’ll be for the time being. You all four are going to spend sibling bonding,” My mother ordered before leaving my room, and I looked at each of my siblings.  
“Wonder if dad is going to size us into the Dollhouse as he did with our grandparents,” Matthew mentioned looking after their mother leaving.   
“That was destroyed,” I reminded him.   
“Dad can reconstruct it,” Veronica reminded me, and I pressed my lips together, not too happy with that thought.

**************************************************

“Yeah, call us if you need anything, okay?” Sam said on a cell phone, talking to someone on the other end.

Dean sighed as he was still cleaning up after the attack from a few days ago. Vanessa didn’t even say where she was going; all he knew was she received a phone call, and the next thing she grabbed the arm of that other man and teleported away—leaving the mess that was now him and his brother’s hotel room. Sam said his goodbyes to the other on the phone line before hanging up and looking at his brother.

“Millie is still working on a case, so she won’t be able to help us out,” Sam responded and started helping his brother with cleaning up.

Millie is the only sister of Dean and Sam Winchester; she was born two years older than Sam and had been on another case without them doing this case. Sam and Dean take as many times as they can to check in with her. This is one of them. The brothers knew they would probably be here longer, which annoyed at least Sam a bit, as he wanted to find their father, but ultimately the brothers knew they needed to help as much as they could. 

“Still no word from Vanessa?” Sam asked, and Dean looked up at his brother. 

“From her reaction, I doubt we will hear anything from her for some time. I get the whole mysterious thing, but she could at least have said goodbye,” Dean responded, shrugging his shoulders.

Sam smiled; his brother, at least, seemed to give her a chance. There have been moments where she has only used her magic to protect him. It was odd to see this. However, Dean wasn’t exactly trusting of witches. But Sam guessed it’s because there has been no reason to doubt her, at least so far. 

“I’m sure she’ll let us know,” Sam reassured, before looking back at his progress of cleaning the room. “But, yeah. She could've at least said a spell or something to fix this,” He mentioned.   
“You think she can?” Dean asked, looking at his brother.   
“Oh, so now you’re interested,” Sam smiled, sarcastically added to the conversation. Dean had not been interested since Sam first discovered them.

Before there was any continuation, there was a knock on the door. The brothers stopped looking at the door, and Dean put down what he was carrying.  
“That better be her,” Dean said, tilting his head and walking towards the door, opening it open.

Dean had guessed right; there stood Vanessa but with another girl with strawberry blonde hair. He was even more confused but said nothing and let us in.  
“Feriae,” Sam said, straightening up and recognizing the other girl.   
Feriae gave a small smile before looking at Vanessa.

“So, I have a little family emergency going on. Here’s the deal, Feriae is going to help you with the Dimensional Shambler, and you are not going after the skeleton thing until I get back,” I said, looking at both the brothers.   
“I think the skeleton is a top priority rather than a family emergency,” Dean said, crossing his arms after he closed the door.

“I think it isn’t,” I responded before looking around the room. I forgot how messed up it got from the attack. “Here’s the thing. The demon that attacked us last night just killed two of my family members and plans on killing more. Our family tree isn’t all witches; we have regular humans that married on into our family. And for me to stop him from killing any more of us, I have to reconnect with my sisters,”

There was a heavy silence around the room, and I glanced at the brothers and Feriae before shrugging a bit. My family knew this was a possibility, and unfortunately, death could be the outcome for many of the demons we faced.

“I have a feeling that the skeleton is working with this demon, and if I vanquish his ass from the universe, finally. The skeleton might be vanquished along with it,” I continued and sighed.   
“How do you know so much?” Sam asked, and I looked at him, crossing my arms.

“Because I’ve been doing this since I was an infant,” I responded and gave a slight smile.   
“Who was the other man that was here?” Dean asked, and I looked at him.   
“I’m not exactly sure how to answer that,” I responded, thinking. There weren't many ways of saying that your older brother, who has been dead since seventeen, just poof back into existence. 

“Is it that complicated?” He asked, and I sighed, pressing my lips together.  
“Complicated runs in my family,” I nodded before clenching my jaw a little.   
“Ex-boyfriend?” He asked, and I widened my eyes, shocked at Dean’s question.   
“Ew, no. He’s my brother,” I quickly responded.   
“That’s not really complicated to me,” Dean said, offering a small smile as if he proved me wrong on something.   
“I’ll tell you why it’s complicated after I get back,” I responded, huffing lightly.

I turned to Feriae and smiled at her, shaking off that entire conversation. I could tell she was nervous, and I gave her a reassuring smile.  
“Look, Dean may look scary, but he’s alright. And Sam is tall, but I’m pretty sure he’ll protect you,” I reassured you. “And if you still aren’t comfortable, you can always call my cousin Constantia to come and help you. She’ll be checking in every once in a while to make sure everything is okay,” I continued, and Feriae gave a slight smile.

“I’ll try my best to help,” Feriae said, looking at the brothers. “I just wish you could stay,”  
“Please, the Shambler should fear you,” I said, giving a slight wink towards her, which got a better smile.   
“I hate to ask, but could you fix this?” Sam asked, and I turned to look at him as he looked around the hotel room.   
“Yeah, sure,” I said and cleared my throat. “Let the object of objection, become but a dream. As I cause the seen to be unseen,”

The entire room started changing back to normal with white orbs flying around and making everything neat and how it was before Pierson attacked. I smiled and looked at the brothers.  
“There. Now, you shouldn’t have any problems,” I responded before sighing and looking back at Feriae. “I should probably go before my father orbs me back home himself,” I mentioned before, giving a slight smile before orbing myself away to go back home.

“Why do I feel like we are working for her now?” Dean asked and looked at his brother.  
“Maybe because we said we would help her,” Sam answered before looking around.   
“So, what do you know?” Dean looked at Feriae, and she shifted slightly.   
“Well,” Feriae started.

**************************************************

Khulkax wasn’t too pleased with the events that Pierson took. But it gave it time to prepare for its own plans. With Halliwell's focusing on Pierson, it would receive this time. It was curious how a demon, like Pierson, received and summoned a Dimensional Shambler into this world. It needed to know how that was possible. Its minions working hard to figure out ways to free their master from the imprisonment of the cave, but with the guardians of its lair, proved difficult. And were defeated by its minions before they made it to the main chamber.

It thought that perhaps its traps were too many, but thought otherwise. Khulkax would’ve known if its research and even its being had been destroyed by now. But it's defensives have remained firm in its time away. Its powers manifested at a weaker strength, but that’s because it wasn’t in its supercharged lair.

“Master,” One of its minions said, bowing politely towards it. It had turned towards its minion, looking down upon it. “We may have found a solution to our situation,”  
“I’m entrusted you have,” Khulkax responded, a little ego played in its disembodied voice.   
“And he who slumbers wishes for answers to how you intend to raise him,” Its minion continued, keeping itself bowed in front of its master.   
“Tell him he’ll awake in time,” Khulkax offered before waving its skeleton hand towards its minion, letting its minion know it was free to leave.

 _Ah._ Khulkax thought, how did it forget such a laborious task they had given it. But time wasn’t a problem for Khulkax, but for its minions, it was. They never lived as long as it, because they didn’t do what it did to keep itself alive for so long. And the decay of bodies happens.

Yet, Khulkax sighed; it was annoyed with the turn of events, but they promised it power, and that made it worth its while. In the meantime, it had other plans to put into motion.

**************************************************

I watched as my mother placed crystals around the attic room. Valeria was sitting on the old couch, Matthew leaning against a wall, and Veronica sitting next to the attic window. I had my arms crossed, and I was standing in the center of the room, looking at my father now.

“Is this really necessary?” I asked, raising my eyebrow towards my parents.   
“For you and your sisters' bond to reform. I say it’s well worth it,” My mother said; I could tell she wasn’t too pleased with this outcome.

While it’s true that my sisters and I have gone apart, that probably was more because all three of us differed from each other. And I wasn’t used to being the older sister; in fact, I never was supposed to be the eldest.   
Yet here I was in an attic with my sisters and dead brother, with my parents locking the room or making sure it was safe before we started doing bounding training. This made me uncomfortable because Pierson would probably kill someone else when this was over, and we needed to stop him. But, no, here we are.

“All four of you are only getting out until you resemble the Power of Three,” My father started after my mother came to his side.   
“Not before, not after,” He looked at all three of us as the rest of them joined my side. My father looked at my mother for a second before waving his hand in front of us.

The next thing, my parents were gone, and we were standing still in the attic. I gave a slight frown as I moved to sit down.

"So," Our brother started before looking at all three of us. "Let's do some soul searching, a real bonding experience.”  
“I’m starting to think dad brought you back for this,” I responded, as I looked at him while sitting.   
“Or maybe the Elders are concerned that we aren’t as connected as our grams and parents are with their siblings,” Veronica defended.   
“You want a bonding experience; you need her to trust us first,” She added, looking at me before looking at our brother.   
“Are you seriously going to think I don’t trust you?” I asked, concerned, and confused by this accusation.   
“Do you really need a list of your ongoing trust issues with us?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“Hey, we are here to bond. Not tearing it apart,” Matthew said, raising his hands to calm all of us down. “The last thing we want to do is use our powers against each other and lose all of our powers,”   
“We can’t bond until we figure out what the issue is, though, Matthew,” Valeria chirped in, looking at him, and he glanced back at her.   
“Okay, you’re the root of all psychic energy; tell us what that issue is,” He responded, crossing his arms and watching Veronica walk away from a little still in earshot.   
“Yes, enlighten us,” Veronica sounded annoyed and frustrated at the same time; I could tell that.

“It’s Matthew, essentially,” Valeria responded, and Matthew snapped his head towards her.  
“Because I’m alive?” He asked, and Veronica sighed.   
“No, because you died,” I answered, looking towards a random item in the room.

**************************************************

“Are you sure it’s going to work?” Valencia asked, looking at their four children asleep on the couch.   
“If they want to rejoin us in this world, then yes,” Wyatt responded, crossing his arms and watching his wife frowned.   
“Couldn’t there be any other non-magic way of doing this? Group therapy?” She asked, putting a blanket over her children.

“We could’ve, but then we have to explain to the actual world how Matthew is alive, and I’m pretty sure. Vanessa would just freeze the room when she and Veronica get into a fight since they will discuss any issue that Veronica has a problem with,” Wyatt explained, sighing and stepping away from his sleeping kids to the Book of Shadows. “Plus, this always worked for my parents,” 

“Power switching your parents and shrinking them in a dollhouse shouldn’t be a problem solver,” Valencia remained her husband.

Wyatt looked at her and smiled at her before looking at the Book. Trying to figure out exactly what his daughter was up to, it was odd that she was this closed off. He knew his daughter struggled with facing the reality that any demon in this book or otherwise could be the last moments of one of her sisters. And after a demon killed Matthew, he imagined his daughter had trouble accepting that, which was the core of the problem. Veronica and Valeria were closer than Vanessa, and all three would need to find common ground. With Matthew alive for this, that shouldn’t be a problem in fixing.

“Are you going to vanquish, Pierson?” Valencia asked, coming over to his side, taking his forearm, and resting on his upper arm. Valencia was incredibly shorter than he was and leaned against him but was looking at the book.  
“Hm, maybe,” Wyatt answered; he didn’t know if he really wanted to.

He knew Pierson was Vanessa and her sisters' battle, and they would need to face him together, but he killed two of his relatives, which Wyatt was considerably closer to them both. Wyatt had to be careful in his choice; he didn’t want to cause any of the set destinies to be interrupted by him. But, if he could stop many more of his family members from dying then, he wanted to take it.

“I wouldn’t,” A woman’s voice sounded, and it took Wyatt to realize that his wife was frozen in place and a figure was in front of him.

She was wearing a white robe, and she neatly tied her hair. Wyatt knew instantly who this was, an Angel of Destiny.

“Thought you got rid of all destinies when my parents stopped Neena,” Wyatt mentioned standing up straight.  
“This one isn’t our doing,” The Angel of Destiny spoke calm and clear, looking at Wyatt's children. “We gave your daughters a destiny that’ll allow them to pass to their true one, but it was never this,”   
“Who else has the power of destiny beside you?” Wyatt asked; he didn’t move from his spot as his wife still had a grip on his arm.

“That’s only for your daughters to discover,” She responded and sighed before looking back at Wyatt.  
“So why are you here?” Wyatt asked, looking at his children.   
“To warn you,” She offered softly and looked towards Valencia. “There is a war coming, in which we have never seen before. Please, be careful in the actions you choose, if you choose the wrong one, your fate will be with your daughters, and you will have a new destiny,”

Before Wyatt could say anything to the Angel of Destiny, she teleported away with golden dust, and Valencia moved, confused as she looked up at her husband. He sighed, staring at the spot, clenching his jaw before looking at his kids and then his wife.

“Wyatt?” His wife asked, concerned, and he looked away from her.

**************************************************

This outcome had surprised him; Pierson had figured all Halliwell’s would come to tear his place apart, to vanquish him. Yet, here he is, still alive. Odd and exciting were the words going through his mind. How could he forget that The Charmed Ones don’t actively seek revenge? But that’s not like Vanessa. He knew her; Pierson knew her mind and how she would react to anything involving her family. 

Perhaps the relatives he killed had no meaning to Vanessa; it was possible. But she is close to her family, at least to Pierson’s knowledge. Maybe, his first attack that led to one of his dolls being vanquished by Vanessa and his sisters, they grew apart. However, the likelihood of staying away was just as slim as him officially taking the sisters out.

Now, his plans weren’t entirely grand or have gone according to what he wanted. But, during his time with Vanessa, he figured out soft spots; while the family was a strong point, it could also be, in a way, a breaking point. The skeleton provided no more help after the course of its encounter with a hunter, nor did he wish to send in the new and triannual creature that he tamed again after them.

The Dimensional Shambler could still be killed, and with Vanessa’s power to blow objects up, it wouldn’t be long for her to figure that out. Pierson, though, perhaps he went into a spiral of rage too soon when he knew Vanessa’s human relatives. However, with the sisters not appearing in his lair to vanquish him, he thought otherwise.

His idea of them being unbound proved more and more likely as the seconds grew by and still no sign of them. His thoughts going back to that, and perhaps the raising of the Netherwraith had provided a better outcome than he initially thought. 

There was still much to his plans, but with the overhanging shadow of Wyatt, the sister's father, he couldn’t get close to them yet. The twice-blessed child would look for him, possibly with the girl's mother, and that grew a sinister grin on his face. Valencia wasn’t as powerful. She had an annoying power similar to Piper’s, but it wasn’t as powerful as Wyatt’s rare ability of Projection with the bonuses half-whitelighter.

Taking Valencia out of the running could provide either the outing of Wyatt or bring Pierson more wrath. He couldn’t decide, but it was worth a shot, to say the very least.

**************************************************

“You honestly let your bond go because I died? It’s supposed to bring you together,” Matthew argued, looking at each of his sisters before crossing his arms.  
“It’s not like we had anything to do with it. Vanessa is the one that grew apart from us all,” Veronica argued back.

Valeria looked as if it bore her with this entire situation of arguing. She had this argument more than once without her older brother, but now it was different; he was here instead of wasn’t.

“Because I'm responsible once and therefore everything is my responsibility to make sure it's right,” I protested, annoyed at these accusations towards me. “What about you, huh? You make it sound like everything I have ever done isn’t to make sure both of you are safe,” 

“That’s not the point, Vanessa; we are supposed to work together. Remember the Power of Three? The greatest force of good the world has ever seen, yeah? Remember that? Because, I think you forgot that the day you vanquished Pierson,” Veronica barked back, snapping her head towards her elder sister.  
“Oh, forgive me for trying to vanquish a demon from killing you and Valeria,” I equally snapped back, crossing my arms and staring at her. “Don’t act as if you haven’t pulled away from the Power of Three since Preston left,” 

“I can’t believe you were bringing something up a decade ago,” Veronica fired back, huffing in anger before straightening up. “At least, I didn’t follow in our Great Aunt’s footsteps and hooked up with a demon,”  
“Enough!” Matthew controlled his voice’s sound to create it to boom over his younger sisters’ argument, causing them to look at him.

Matthew took a breath once he realized all three of us were staring at him. Before straightening up and relaxing his shoulders, putting his features into a motion of understanding and something that resembled an owl of wisdom.

“There is no point in bringing up the past that happened a while ago. The point of this isn’t to draw further away from each other, but to grow together. By shooting hurtful words and lashing out in anger will never heal the leftover wounds. Vanessa, I’m dead; you should’ve let me go a long time ago and bonded with your sisters more. We make mistakes happen; it’s how we learn from them. You can still work with your sisters while protecting them. Veronica, your sister, has done nothing to make sure you and Valeria had lives that you are living to tell your grandkids about it someday. While it's understandable to feel the way you do, it’s also another thing to view from another’s perspective. And Valeria maybe focuses more on trying to be a part of your sister’s lives instead of always trying to put the pieces back together without being familiar with where they go,” Matthew said, as calmly and as firmly as he could.

“What are we supposed to do? It’s not exactly healthy for all of our secrets to be said to one another, and we can’t walk a mile in each other's footsteps,” Valeria responded after a pause of silence as she moved to sit back in her chair.

“Well,” Matthew mumbled before thinking of something.   
“We are supposed to figure it out ourselves, not by magic,” I put my finger up, warning him quickly.   
“Then figure it out, or I’m swapping your powers from each other,” Matthew quickly responded, and I moved my head, looking away from him.

“You can’t just switch our powers and think it’ll be that easy for us to know how each other feels; it’s not magic that broke us apart; it's emotions we share,” Valeria responded quietly.

Matthew paused before saying anything; he didn’t realize his youngest sister had the power to feel others’ emotions. As far as his knowledge, he believed their Great Aunt Phoebe’s children and so forth would gain a similar ability such as Empathy.  
“If I’m honest, talking doesn’t seem to work right now. And problems emotionally don’t resolve themselves in one go. So, we have to figure out a way to get you three to trust each other long enough for the bond to be fixed,” Matthew stated, taking a deep sigh and looking off into no peculiar direction.

“It’s mostly Vanessa,” Veronica responded, and I looked at her, tilting my head.  
“Perhaps not pointing fingers would be a good start, Veronica,” I huffed back before looking away from her.   
“This is going to take at least a month to fix,” Matthew mumbled, sighing and putting his fingers on his forehead.   
“Which we don’t have time for,” Veronica said, looking at Matthew this time.   
“We’ve been over this before. You three can’t vanquish Pierson without the Power of Three, and if the Power of Three is weakened to where they could break it. That’s why we need to fix it,” Matthew sighed, annoyed with his sisters and clenching his jaw lightly.

“Then fix it with them,” I responded, looking at my brother. He looked at me, puzzled, written on his face. “They brought you back, right? It’s not the Power of Four; it’s the Power of Three. The Elders probably brought you back because of the sisterly bond; I ain’t really feeling it. So, they probably want you to take over,” I shrugged, looking away.

It made sense, at least entirely to me. Why would else the Elders bring back my older brother? They care too much about the existence of the Power of Three at all times. They would do anything to preserve the greatest force of good they had in their fight against evil. And I wasn’t exactly cutting, sure I was used to being an elder sister, but that always felt more of a mother type job or a protector type job when our parents were away vanquishing their own demons. The thought of them fighting such things made me sick to my stomach; I didn’t want to have to lose one of them, and what sold it was the fact that it was my responsibility to protect them.

The bond I had with my sisters was there; it just got blurry when Pierson entered my life, and knowing how that ended only made it all the worse. As that wasn’t enough, stronger demons started raising and even nearly killing Veronica; I guess that’s when I decided the Power of One had to do a lot better than the three of us. The risk of losing one of my sisters was lower when it was just me, but my chances grew higher.

“No, it has to be you three. We just need to find common ground,” Matthew ended the silence when he realized no one was going to comment on what I said.

**************************************************

Wyatt sighed as he sat in the living room chair with his own two siblings, looking at his younger siblings, Chris and Melinda Halliwell. All three had grown, and it was odd knowing that all three had children of their own. The house had been the stillest it's been since the funeral, and while everyone had left, the air was still heavy.

“Pierson’s back then,” Chris said, the first to break the silence of his two siblings.  
“Didn’t Vanessa vanquish him?” Melinda asked, looking up in the attic's direction.   
“Supposedly,” Wyatt mumbled and took a deep breath. “But, we’ve underestimated demons before,” He added, sitting back in his chair.   
“You think it's a Cole situation?” Chris asked, looking at Melinda for a second and then at his brother.   
“Doubt it,” Melinda gave a slight smile as she looked at the ground. “The moment Pierson tried anything, she didn’t hesitate to throw the potion, nor did she hesitate to blow him up either,” She added, looking up again.

“Then does this guy have powers we don’t know about?” Chris asked, moving the subject along.  
“Quite possible; we don’t exactly know the full abilities that are out there,” Wyatt continued before sighing.

The outcomes that took place weren’t precisely abnormal. Each of them was born with a legacy to uphold and conquer. However, that didn’t stop his family from sponge future generations of the destinies that the Greater Good gives them. And to his knowledge, that was achieved, at least for him and his sibling’s futures.

With more significant threats starting to rise, the next generation may not handle the battles ahead. At least, he wanted to believe that Wyatt knew his daughters. When they were born, they were potent witches; they were rare children in their family to enter their powers fast. A trait they gained from their father, he could use his magic even in the womb, but to have nearly all of his children be able to use their magic as infants proved to be a challenge.  
“The Angel of Destiny sought my council today,” Wyatt said, breaking the conversation that he did not realize his siblings were having with each other.

Both of their heads snapped in his direction; he looked off towards a picture frame on the far ending, next to an ancient piano he grew up around. Melinda and Chris were puzzled and concerned simultaneously, while the Angel of Destiny proved not a threat. These Angels had been responsible for their own destinies - for all destinies.  
“And?” Melinda asked first, not taking her eyes off of her brother.

“Please, do not tell me that one of them turns evil because that’s on you. You get to go back in time and stop it from happening,” Chris mentioned quickly, standing up and crossing his arms. Growing impatient and more concerned by the lack of words, his brother had failed so far to speak.

“It seems as if the girls have a new destiny. Of which, they aren’t responsible for,” Wyatt finally said, letting them know the outcome he was told today.  
“I’m sorry, are you telling me that there is some other destiny powerhouse responsible for all of this happening to my nieces?” Chris asked, turning to his brother, stopping his movement of going to pace. He was frustrated and furious by this news.   
“After everything, our parents have done. What they think we can just continue this? The Charmed Ones fulfilled their destiny by stopping the Ultimate Power; we also stopped you from turning evil. They also stopped the First Witch from destroying all the magic in the world, and now, they think that we’ll just accept the girl's destiny as if we ever have been accepting it in the first place,” Chris ranted before Wyatt stood up himself.

“I know, believe me, I don’t want my daughters going through a destiny, knowing that it might get one of them killed,” Wyatt said, trying to calm his younger brother down.  
“Don’t say it,” Chris warned, putting up his fingers to stop his brother.   
“But it’s not that easy. The Angels of Destiny claim their destinies are not of their making but from something else. And that my actions may put me in the middle of it,” Wyatt continued despite his brother’s warning.

Melinda stood up, rolling up the sleeves of her long shirt and crossing her arms. She knew her nieces were strong and that her older brother wanted to protect them, to let them grow and find their own free will in this world. She felt responsible for her nieces as much as their own father did. She had three daughters of her own. All of which she worries every day about them potentially being dragged back into the fight against good and evil.

“It can’t be avoided,” Melinda said, giving a slightly worried sigh as she looked at her older brother, Chris. “And I know you are going to get yourself dragged in, so I’m dragging myself in,”  
“Mel, you can’t,” Wyatt softly said, looking at his sister.   
“They are my nieces, and therefore, are part of my responsibility to guide them. They’ll be bored without their amazing aunt protecting them,” Melinda said, smirking lightly.   
“You have your own daughters to worry about,” Chris chimed in this time.

"I do have my own daughters to worry about. But these are your own nieces too if you came to me and said your sons and daughter had a destiny now. I would do the same for you,” Melinda responded, determined to help their brother with this.   
“Fine, but once I get the club up and running, I expect them to help me out,” Chris said, with a huff of being defeated but agreeing.

Wyatt sighed and looked at his brother, nodding his head. However, the idea wasn’t exactly far fetched considering since he could guess his eldest daughter would drop out of the last months before she even graduated.  
The idea alone made him upset; his daughter’s duty as a protector of the innocent and a Charmed One always came first, even despite the teachings of both himself and his mother, Piper’s advice. To Wyatt, he believed she only entertained everyday life and rather enjoyed being a witch.

That didn’t matter too much to him; it delighted him that his daughter is proud of who she is, but at the cost of possibly living a life outside of magic was never something he wanted. His parents tried everything in their ability to let him and his siblings decide what they wanted to do as future witches. With this growing power, Pierson seems to be involved in; he knew it bothered his daughter.

A soft knock sounded on the wooden front door, telling them that someone was at the door. Wyatt glanced at his siblings before heading towards the front door; every Halliwell had walked through.  
When the door opened, it surprised him to see a woman with strawberry blonde hair and a very annoying look on her face as two men behind her accompanied her. When Wyatt looked up at them, he recognized them as the brothers before, or as his daughter told him.

“Where’s Vanessa?” The strawberry blonde asked; she looked as if she might throw something. Wyatt decided this woman is innocent. His daughter was to protect.  
“Occupied,” Wyatt said, sighing lightly, trying to give a positive outlook.   
“Yeah, well, if she doesn’t tag me out with these two. I’m going to ring their necks,” The woman motioned to the brothers without looking back at them.   
“I can help,” Wyatt said, looking up at the brothers before looking down at the woman.   
“Good, because I’m new to this whole magic thing. And there is only so much I can answer,” The woman said, with an annoyed smile before tilting her head-turning on her heels and pressing her lips together.   
“Have fun,” She waved lightly before quickly leaving.

The brothers watched as Feriae quickly went down the steps, and Dean looked at Sam before shaking his head. Once again, his brother blew any chance with a woman that showed any remark of liking him. Or at least to his idea.  
Sam looked back at his brother, Dean giving him a solid look that they would talk about this later, to which Dean shrugged, and they both turned around looking at the man who stood in the doorway. Crossed arms and looked as if he might send them away.

“Sir,” Sam said, clearing his throat and putting an innocent look on his face to which his brother was not.  
“Vanessa isn’t here,” The man once again said, this time with a little more force, to which Dean crossed his arms.   
“Says who?” Dean asked, drawing the attention of the man to him this time.   
“Says her father,” The man said, not a single tone of amusement sounding in his voice, and his face looks as if he had been in this situation more times than he could count.

Dean cleared his throat, looking at his brother for help. Sam looked back at him, his face telling him he didn’t know what to say.  
“Look, Sir,” Sam said, clearing his throat to keep his voice from breaking and looking back at the man who is now Vanessa’s father.   
“We don’t mean to be rude or anything, but we kinda need your daughter’s help in this,” Sam said as politely as he could.

“I know that, but until she comes back. She won’t be helping,” The man said and sighed lightly.  
“My best advice that I have for you two. Just move on to the next town. It does not include concern hunters; it never has. We handle it,” He said, crossing his arms looking at both of them.   
“Right, because a floating skeleton almost killing your daughter while being able to stop her powers is handling it. I didn’t see you save her,” Dean cut in this time, looking severely at the older man in front of them.

This was much to Sam’s surprise. It took a lot of effort to get Dean to say okay to the thought of returning here, and now he was standing behind him, sounding protective over leaving altogether.

“That girl that just left got attacked by something that she best describes as a hunter that can cross-dimension, and she saw your daughter get taken away. And now, as I said, there are floating skeletons, and you just want us to turn the other way?” Dean asked, continuing his stand.

“Then think of it this way. Vanessa can’t save everyone; what do you think is going to happen if she lost one of you when you could just leave?” The man asked and looked at Dean seriously. “Let me break it down for you, ever innocent that my daughter has lost to something she couldn’t stop. She has blamed herself, and do you know what happens in return? Sometimes, they are used against her. If you really want to help, you’ll leave,”

As Dean stood there to what his brother could almost imagine as fuming a bit, there was a silence between them. Sam instantly took his brother’s shoulder to tell him to calm down and not say anything he’ll regret.  
“You’re right, we’re sorry we’ll leave,” Sam said, interrupting anything that his brother was thinking as he tugged lightly to tell his brother to leave with him.

Even though his brother let go of Dean’s shoulder, he stood there looking at Vanessa’s father before sighing and shaking his head. It frustrated him with all of this; he felt he and his brother deserved more answers. But he complied regardless of his brother’s want to leave.  
It surprised Dean, too; he talked before he could say anything but, despite his best efforts to think all of them were evil witches, Vanessa kept proving that it wasn’t the case. He knew that the younger family members seemed to be targeted, but this might be normal. He didn’t know. He stopped walking and turned back around to face Vanessa’s father.

“Dean,” Sam called, stopping seeing his brother not moving; he was halfway down the steps.  
“Just let her know that if she needs help. We’ll help the best we can,” Dean said, looking to meet the face of Vanessa’s father. To establish that he and his brother were there to help.

Wyatt took a breath to sigh before nodding, looking at the man, which he figured he name is Dean. Before stepping onto the porch to face him fully.  
“Dean, is it? I’m going; being honest, people tend to not stay long around us; you want to protect your brother, right? Right now is the time to do it. It’s not a threat; it’s a warning. What is happening, it’s going to cost lives. I’ll let her know, but if you really want to help her. You’ll leave,” Wyatt said, crossing his arms and only glancing at Dean’s brother once he mentioned him, then back at Dean.   
“Saving people is what we do,” Dean said; he looked past Wyatt’s shoulder, noticing two other adults standing in the hallway.

One a woman with dirty blonde hair; she resembled Vanessa but with dirty blonde hair. And another man that looked grumpy and annoyed with the situation entirely. If he guessed, they were probably Vanessa’s father’s siblings judging by their resemblance to him.  
“We save people too,” Wyatt responded before looking back at his siblings. Before he sighed at Melinda, giving him a look to trust the two brothers a bit. 

Melinda stepped out, to which her older brother, Chris, went to stop her before holding out her hand and smiling friendly at Dean.   
“Hi, I’m Melinda,” She smiled sweetly, and when he didn't shake, she simply put her hand to one side.   
“I’m this idiot’s younger sister and the aunt of Vanessa,” She added and then looked at Sam. “I think it’s great that you want to help our family. I really do. What my brother has forgotten is that you helped save my nieces, and we should work together,”   
“Uh,” Sam blinked and looked at his older brother, trying to sort through this odd family.   
“I’m sorry you were there when my daughter was attacked?” Chris chimed in and partly came out of the house, glaring at his older brother.   
“Did you know?” He asked his brother.

“Come on in,” Melinda smiled, motioning the two brothers inside. Looking at her older brother, who had a face that looked as if he was annoyed with her offer.

**************************************************

Melinda smiled as she helped her mom layout a tea tray for everyone and then took a seat next to her brother Chris.   
Chris stared at the two brothers, who sunk into the old couch that’s been in the family since his great Grams lived here. Wyatt returned to the living room after letting his wife know what is going on downstairs.

“Well, this is awkward for all of us,” Piper said, looking at each one of them. Before flickering her hands and looking at her kids.  
“Mom, you can’t just freeze them,” Melinda protested as she looked at her mother.   
“They’re fine, but I can’t say that when Prue finds out about this,” Piper warned, waving her hand toward the frozen brothers, and Melinda tilted her head, sighing.  
“Mom, let’s just hear what they have to say,” Wyatt said, sighing lightly as he turned around to look at the group that is sitting in the room. “Melinda is right; we need to work with them. And we can’t work with them if we freeze them,”

Piper sighed, looked at the two others that weren’t moving and waved her hands, causing them to be unfrozen, and then clapped her hands, taking a seat herself.   
“Mom,” Wyatt said, obviously not wanting his mother involved.   
“Wyatt, I don’t need to remind you that with all of this happening, it’ll be a good idea for perhaps my sisters and I are involved too. So, I want to hear what they have to say,” Piper said, putting her wrinkled hand on the under the chin, staring at the brothers.

Sam put his eyebrows together, figuring out what she meant before looking at the younger ones. The man who claimed to be Vanessa’s father, Wyatt, is this older woman’s son, which meant all the other two were her kids. He softly hit his brother, realizing quickly who she did and him not knowing before, struck down to him.

“Ow,” Dean said, looking at his brother, glaring at him, noticing his brother staring. “Dude,”  
“Dean, it’s one of the original,” Sam whispered before swallowing to get himself to compose his features.   
“Original?” Dean asked, confused he didn’t listen to his brother after he mentioned they were witches and didn’t care about anything else.   
“Ah, so you’ve done the research,” Piper said, amused, and gave a small smile before looking at her elder son. Raising her hands before Wyatt put his hand towards his mother, stopping her from freezing them again.

“Mom, it’s okay,” Wyatt reassured her, looking at her, then at the brothers.  
“Obviously, your brother knows who we are,” Chris responded before standing up and crossing his arms.   
“I know you are witches,” Dean responded, struggling before noticing the same plate of food on the tea tray before leaning forward to take a piece.  
“Dean, The Charmed Ones, remember?” Sam asked, trying to jog his memory, to which he received an eye roll.   
“Yeah, witches,” Dean responded before taking a bit of the food.

“Well, it’s nice to know that not all the supernatural community knows who we are,” Piper chirped, standing up herself. “Which I still find insulting,” She said, giving a half-smile towards the brothers.  
“Do you even know who the Charmed Ones are?” Chris asked Dean, and he shrugged. “And please, don’t just say witches,”   
Dean cleared his throat, trying to recall what his brother told him, what Vanessa had told him. Shifting awkwardly in his seat, looking at the ceilings and then back at the others.   
“I’ve been told you are good witches,” Dean innocently said, getting an awkward chuckle from Chris and Piper.

**************************************************

“Master, are you sure you’ll be able to control it?” Khulkax’s minion that helped give it information and ideas asked, hunched over regarding its floating skeleton.  
“Pierson wanted a show, wanted the Charmed Ones dead; then he’ll have his wish,” Khulkax’s flamy blue eyes light in the two dark eye slots of its skull.

Khulkax floated to the middle of the cruelly made cave that the witch Evanore had imprisoned centuries ago. The carved summoning circle, the requirements already in a place of its plan. Its skeleton hands moved with blue energy wrapping around the white bones of its fingers, and with it, the summoning circle followed the glow.  
Morgan lit a cigarette, watching in the shadows of the floating sorcerer do its work. Watching in awe of its magic.

A few ancient words, Morgan couldn’t understand, in a different tongue, its minion guessed. And the circle lit with blue flames, opening a rift to space itself. Morgan tilted his head, raising a brow before shimmering away.  
  
“Come, a creature of torment. Undead horror among the stars,” Khulkax demanded, holding the rift to the stars and darkness of space.   
“ _Why?_ ” A voice from underneath the skeleton’s feet hissed in response.   
“To devour the world, of course,” Khulkax responded; a darker laugh sounded in response towards Khulkax.   
“ _Souls are my preferred taste, Lich,_ ” The creature responded, and a tall, twisted of its former self, floated from the rift and straightened to face Khulkax.   
“Then devour the Charmed Ones' souls,” Khulkax said, a smirk hidden in its voice.

The twisted, tormented undead creature, titled its dusky skin, cracked and chipped, its solid ivory eyes staring into the blue flame of the skull, trying to decide the best choice of words. Its body still housed the skin of its former husk; if not for its chest that had been ripped into thorns or spikes, housing skulls no doubt in Khulkax’s mind that this creature ate for its meal. The trapped souls moved, trying to reach the skeleton, furthering that the creature ate its victims. The creature’s wicked sharp mouth filled with needles smiled. It floated above the ground, towering over Khulkax, its tatter cloak behind it. 

“ _All of their souls?_ ” The creature asked, enlightened and excited for the offer.   
“Expect one,” Khulkax responded, waving its skeleton hands to disband the magic it summoned, looking to face the creature in its solid ivory eyes. “You can devour them all, but one, I need one to be free from this prison,” Khulkax ordered the rules.   
“ _I will bring you the one, Lich. But, I will devour the rest, yes?_ ” The creature spoke with such delight and happiness of the meal it was offered.   
“Yes,” Khulkax said, and the creature laughed delighted from the response.   
“ _Then dinner rings,_ ” The creature laughed and disappeared with no more words.

Valencia sat in the chair, watching her children asleep, protecting them from all threats that would want to harm her children. Some of them twisted and moved lightly because of probably the arguments, she guessed. She had a photo album on her lap, looking at old photos of the Halliwell’s and then newer pictures of what the family had been up to. 

She had enhanced a photo album the first year they had married her and Wyatt and had been pregnant with Matthew. She wanted to make sure that all photos in the house would be in one place and all the bloodline members would snap a picture, and it would magically appear in the book.

It had been something to keep her mind off of the trouble downstairs and the impending battle ahead. Perhaps, someday, her daughters would have kids of their own, but that was down the years most likely. She took a breath, huffed it from her nose, and placed the photo book on the end table. 

Valencia stood up, stretching her limbs; she had sat there for hours; it seemed. Looking out the attic window noticing the night sky with the barely visible stars because of the streetlights shining them out. She knew it would take time for them to forgive their conflicts, but she didn’t think they were this out of touch.

“How are they?” Wyatt’s warming voice, calming ask. His footsteps silent and snuck up on her. She turned with a jolt, looking at him and then smiling when she realized who it was.  
“Still asleep,” Valencia sighed, looking at their children. “If they don’t fix it soon, I’m going to go in,”   
“It’s not our problem to fix; if they can’t find common ground soon, then they can have bonding time in the afterlife,” Wyatt mentioned moving over to the Book of Shadows. 

Wyatt knew he wouldn’t discover anything new in the Book, but it was to keep his hands busy, similar to his mother.  
“How are our guests?” Valencia asked, walking over to join her husband.   
“Being questioned by my siblings,” Wyatt mumbled and sighed. “And my mother,” He added, which got a surprised smile from his wife.   
“She’s just worried,” She offered to reassure him.

It would have worked if not for the crash downstairs. Wyatt’s eyes instantly snapped to the sound.  
“Stay here,” Wyatt ordered before orbing downstairs.

Valencia looked at her children before grabbing crystals and making a circle around them. Until it threw her husband back into the room, nearly hitting the attic window if he didn’t orb to stop himself moving.  
“Wyatt!” Valencia yelled, standing straight looking towards the door.

The creature floated down, having to duck from its towering height into the attic. It scanned the room for Wyatt until noticing the other souls in the room. Valencia raised her hand, summoning a bubble around it and twisting her hands, sending it backward. She didn’t want to know what this creature was, only knowing that this creature had attacked her family. That was more than enough to attack it.  
The creature disappeared from Valencia’s sight before appearing behind her. It’s twisted hand, with its overgrown nails raised behind her. Sending a jolt of intense and severe pain within Valencia’s body.   
Valencia couldn’t hold back the scream; as she felt every inch of her body was filled with snapping and pinning pain throughout her nerves and bones. Following to her knees, coughing slightly with the blood spilling from her mouth. She couldn’t move, the pain still sending waves in her body.   
“ _Pity, I thought you would make more of a fight,_ ” The creature hissed, disappointed as its toes touched the floorboards, reaching towards Valencia.

Valencia tried her best to move, but her body didn’t; the pain is too severe for her to move, even in the slightest. The hand reaching towards her before taking hold of her throat, dragging her mangled body from the floor. It raised her to meet its solid ivory eyes; its jaws with its needle teeth opened.  
Valencia felt weaker, felt her soul leaving her body. A wisp of something poured into its jaws. And darkness engulfed her, going completely limp in the creature's grip. In return, the creature threw the corpse to the ground, turning to the four siblings resting.  
“No,” Wyatt yelled, sending a blast from his hands, sending the creature back, and waving his hands to wake his children up.

I awakened with a start, looking around and noticing my father’s energy waves holding back a creature of itself. Matthew had been the first to stand, assisting his father by adding to his own, and I stood up, feeling dizzy but flickering my hands regardless, blowing up the creature. The creature hissed; Veronica stood next, placing a shield behind it as I continued sending combustion towards the creature.   
Until, with one more find wave combining, the creature broke into nothing, to dust and particulars. The ash falling to the ground, and a wave of white light poured from its ashes, shooting upwards into the ceiling.  
I had to admit, it confused me, considering that my siblings and I were trying to reconnect until I saw my mother step out of the light. My father went to his knees, and I scanned the room when I realized she was transparent. Noticing Valeria having her arms wrapped around our mother’s corpse, tears streaming from her cheeks.   
I moved, the fastest I ever moved, sliding on the wooden floorboards, quickly putting my hands over my mother, summoning the golden light to heal her. I grew more and more impatient, trying to figure out why her transparent form wasn’t disappearing before she gave me a frown.

“No, mom,” I hoarsely pleaded with her. Shaking my head, fighting every ounce of tears from my own eyes.  
“Please,” I weakly got out of my throat.  
My mother’s eyes followed all of us when the white light disappeared, and Patty Halliwell appeared next to her, looking at her with a frown.

“I never thought saying goodbye would be so hard. I love you all so much, don’t forget to live and don’t join me early,” Valencia shifted, clearing her throat trying to fight back her sadness and warning, looking at all of her children and husband.  
Patty grabbed Valencia’s hand before they disappeared into the afterlife.  
I looked at my mother’s corpse, moving to sit on the ground entirely. Not fighting it anymore, I put my hands on my face as I started crying. Shaking my head, trying to get myself to wake up as if it had been a nightmare and she would be alive. I only moved to hold my youngest sister, who kept our mother in her arms, sobbing herself. 

Veronica moved softly, sitting next to us, grabbing onto our arms and letting the tears fall. Matthew stood, his face lost, looking defeated. He didn’t know what to do or say. His eyes went to look at our father on his knees, face buried in his hands.  
“Wyatt!” Our aunt Melinda called, running into the attic, her footsteps stopping, only realizing what was going on.

Chris noticed running towards his brother, taking hold of him, pulling him into a hug. He looked at us, cuddled with our mother, the saddest look in his eyes.   
I didn’t look back until I heard Melinda whispering to someone else, stepping inside, and as she moved towards the door to close it, I saw the Winchester brothers looking in it. My eyes flickered to Dean’s for only a moment until the oak wooden door closed shut.

**************************************************

I couldn’t remember anything after they took my mother away, only Lucien and Constantia’s hugs. My father didn’t speak many words as his brother kept him stable long enough to help him a bed.

The weather took a turn when we sat in our chairs at our mother’s funeral. Smokey gray clouds formed in the sky, and the rain felt ferocious, walloping the roof and the glass panels. The flowers were pretty; mother would have liked them. I didn’t know how many people she knew, but the place seemed packed; I didn’t stare long at even the coffin. I looked down at the marble floor and felt my sisters' clenching hands, trying to find any comforting.   
After the funeral, we only allowed family into the Manor; I sat on the couch, staring at my family’s faces as if I was reliving my aunt and uncle’s funeral.  
Veronica talked to our uncle Chris, trying to figure out things and where to go from there. Valeria was taking counsel from Phoebe and the other psychics. And my father sat in a chair with his mother’s hand on his shoulder. I pressed my lips before standing up, moving away from the living room. But I had a big family, all of which had spread and went to mourn with someone in the tree. 

The sounds of all the mourning, I knew it was necessary; I knew it was. That struck harder for me, knowing they didn’t understand or knew what was going on. I didn’t know what was going on when Matthew died. I couldn’t imagine how all the Empaths were feeling in this house.  
I stood in the hallway, leading to the rest of the house, the table that had been broken countless times and always a vase of bright flowers were on top, the dining table sat a few of my cousins and family members, some sat on the stairs, and others were walking from different places.   
What I didn’t expect is a demon shimmering in front of my younger cousins; I quickly flickering my hands, stopping the fireball and then flickering them again, vanquishing the demon in flames and being dragged down to mark scorch marks.   
Couldn’t even mourn in peace, could we, the two sitting on the stairs quickly ran up the stairs before the fireball unfroze and hit the carpet. The ones at the dining table promptly stood up, looking at the marks on the ground and then back at me. 

I shook my head, sighing and moving backward, my heels clicking as I pulled open the door of the Manor and walking out, jotting down the stairs.  
“Vanessa!” Connie called behind me, and I tilted my head as I let myself just keep walking.

I didn’t care about the rain dripping on me and the soaking from the constant downpour. I couldn’t care less about the cold that my entire body felt, that shivery cold that sent through my body. I didn’t notice my arms crossed, consciously knowing the cold and trying to keep my body from freezing. The sticky wet of my hair on the back of my neck as I just wandered the sidewalk of the familiar road of our community.   
Everyone wasn’t out in this weather, at least, not with this amount of rain pouring down. Not that anyone would want to see what the commotion was about. Our neighbors always thought we were weird anyway and that bad things happened around the Manor, which had always been the case, but everyone always assumed that we were nothing but trouble.  
I didn’t know where I was going either; I just kept walking. I half thought of orbing somewhere else in the world to calm my thoughts. I knew my family was going through the same thing, but that the Underworld couldn’t leave us alone for more than a day to mourn. I clenched my jaw at the thought of it. I took a breath, looked around me before being surrounded by orbs, orbing to a different place.

The place was dark, damp, everything had sand or dirt as the floor, and it was a series of carved caves. I always knew this as the Underworld for us, the place where the demons came from, to gather their strengths, plot their plans to take us down, and of course, where they summon darker and ancient evils to kill us.  
I bent down before breaking off my heels, discarding them to get a better footing in this place. I took a breath, and while I knew my powers would be null down here, I didn’t care. I wanted to find Pierson and vanquish him for what he has started.  
I knew it wasn’t going too well, but I didn’t care; I made my way through the dark cave system, finding a demon, flicking my hands, freezing the demon in place, waving my hand to only unfreeze his head.

“Tell me where Pierson is,” I demanded, and the demon crackled before I flicked my hands, his arm being blown to shreds, and he cried in pain.  
“Tell me, where Pierson is,” I demanded more, dropping my voice into a dangerous warning tone.   
“Do you really think you can beat him?” The demon gave a slightly wicked chuckle before coughing and smiling towards me. “You’re weakened, Charmed One; without your sisters, you are nothing. Couldn’t even save your mother,”

I pressed my eyebrows together before raising my hand, hovering above his other arm.   
“Weak, huh?” My voice held no feeling, no emotions, just an empty void as a white light appeared underneath my palm.   
“What are you doing, witch?” The demon asked, a hint of fear in his voice as he watched the white light above his tan jacket.

I focused on the power I was using, speeding the molecules in the demon’s skin as it started smoking until it sent on fire. The demon’s head moved to move away, but with him frozen still, he couldn’t run. He cried in pain and sounded into the caves until his entire body was ripped into ash, and I pressed my eyes together, turning around.  
“Sorry to do this, I really am,” Lucien quickly moved, throwing a potion at my feet, the smoke hitting me in the face, and I instantly fell to the ground going unconscious.

Lucien quickly grabbed Vanessa before she hit the ground and sighed. Before looking up at the other figure, she failed to realize it was there. Matthew walked, overcrossing his arms and shaking his head.   
“Didn’t think she would go this far,” Matthew mumbled, watching as Lucien picked up Vanessa in a bridal style to carry her from this place.  
“If you died today, think she might do the same,” Lucien commented, smiling, his dimples forming slightly before looking at his older cousin. “She means well; she just can’t forgive herself,” 

Matthew looked at his cousin, confused on his face before looking at his sister’s unconscious. “What do you mean?”   
“Blames herself for your death. I’d imagine Uncle Wyatt feels the same. It’s why she never got too close to her sisters, afraid they would be killed too,” Lucien informed his elder.  
Matthew sighed before placing a hand on his cousin, orbing them back to the Manor.

They appeared in Vanessa’s room, where Lucien shifted to lay Vanessa on the bed. Laying her as careful as he could, and sighed himself, placing the match shift quilt on her to keep her warm.  
“Suppose this is a bigger battle than just the Power of Three can stand against,” Lucien quietly mentioned turning to his elder cousin, smiling slightly.  
“Not if Vanessa and her sisters reconnect,” Matthew responded just as quietly, looking at his younger sister. “Any advice?”

Lucien sighed before looking at Vanessa, trying to think of a tangible thing that might help Matthew in his mission to reconnect his siblings.  
“Not sure there is advice for having sisters. If I offered it, I’d just say be there for them. But, don’t force it; you can’t force them to get along. They have to find that on their own,” He swallowed, blinking before looking at his older cousin.  
“Thanks,” Matthew politely responded before Lucien nodded and left the room.

Matthew sighed, clenching his jaw, looking at the room. He remembered this room before; Vanessa and he shared it as kids until he was a teenager and got his own room. Vanessa had to share a room with Veronica. He believed this had been his room. The only difference in the room was that it was cleaner than he remembered. The ivory walls, the Polaroid photos on the mirror, and of course, the plants were a new touch. He walked over to the Polaroid photos, looking at each other. 

They had taken each one with Vanessa, someone in the family, or someone out of the family. Matthew sighed at the one with Vanessa and a woman he knew by the name of Delia. Delia had been his girlfriend until they killed him; in the picture, she had a red cap to show that she graduated from high school. He wanted to know how she was but thought against it. He was supposed to be dead.

Yet, here he was, alive when his mother was just killed; he pulled his eyes away from the photo to look at the others until he spotted one of the five of them. It was a mess, and you could barely understand what was happening. It had taken the photo before that day of the demon that killed Matthew, Valeria on his shoulders, Vanessa braiding Veronica’s hair, and everything seemed fine that day. Big smiles on all of their faces. His eyes looked back at his sister, asleep still.

He didn’t have to guess how hard it had been for them to adjust to his death and even the change of losing their own mother. Matthew thought he could ask to go back to the afterlife if it meant bringing back his mother, so it’ll spare that feeling until much later. But he knew his ancestors would be against that decision, as everything happens for a reason, and he knew from lessons that death is just a part of the process.

Perhaps the Elders realized that more prices were to be paid in the event of a battle and sent him back as punishment for dying early, to watch his family die. Matthew decided he would not let that happen. They sent him back because they might need the Power of Four, and if he can get them all connected, they will handle anything.

**************************************************

Dean ran a hand down his face, annoyed with the little process they have been receiving. “I’m telling you, this might be the longest case we’ve been on. Do you think they know by now with the false criminal recorder that shapeshifter gave me?”   
“I don’t think so,” Sam offered reassurance as he looked at his brother sitting on the foot of one bed. “Think you would’ve been arrested already,”  
Dean shrugged, tilting his head in agreement; his brother was right. “Yeah, but you asked her to find our dad,”  
Sam pressed his lips together, sighing, and looking back at the book he was researching. “Think that’s the last thing on their minds,”

“You think they are alright?” Sam asked after more silence had passed. “I feel like we should send a card or something,”   
“If they didn’t want us around before, they aren’t going to want us around now,” Dean responded, standing up, moving to the window of the hotel room, pulling the blinds back, watching the raindrop.   
“Still, we should check on them,” Sam offered, closing the book with a little puff and putting it to the side, sitting back in his chair sighing.   
“Would advise against that,” A voice responded; it wasn’t Dean, and the next thing that happened was both of the brothers aimed their guns that were tucked behind their belt.

The man smiled, leaning against the wall, looking at both of them. He wanted to laugh; these were the hunters that had frightened the great Khulkax. At the same time, they had their trigger fingers ready.

“Who are you?” Dean demanded quickly, shifting to stand next to his brother.

He put his hands up before the guns disappeared from the grips of their hands and into the hands of the man; in return, he broke them down, throwing them to the ground.

“Not civil, are you?” The man, questioning, went into his pockets, pulling out a cigarette, lighting it with his finger.  
“I’m warning you-” Dean started before the man raised his hand. Dean kept quiet in response.   
“Warn me?” The man questioned before putting his hand down.   
“You thought your monsters and creatures were bad and hurting people?” The man spoke through the bud of his cigarette before pulling it away from his mouth.

“There is a bigger picture here. You stepped into a centuries-old war against good and evil magic,” The man continued blowing out the smoke from his lungs.  
“Morgan,” He answered before looking around the hotel room.

“Okay, Morgan, what do you want?” Sam asked this time before his brother had a chance.  
“Honestly, to help,” Morgan stated, leaning back against the wall. “I rather like this world, and the two idiots in the Underworld will probably destroy it before they kill the Charmed Ones,”   
“Underworld?” Dean asked, looking at his brother, to which Morgan sighed.   
“The Underworld is the place where demons, warlocks, and other evil wants the Charmed Ones dead,” Morgan took another draft. 

“What side are you on?” Sam asked, stuffing up to the man in front of him.

Morgan smiled at this question; this hunter asked the right ones and quickly clicked on fast. Morgan knew he might already know the answer. “I’m on many sides. As many as I need to be to survive,”

“That’s not an answer,” Sam pushed his eyebrows together, not liking that answer.

Morgan decided he liked the towering hunter and blew out the smoke in his lungs. “Warlock,” 

Sam tensed even more and put his eyebrows together, not looking at his brother. “I think you should leave,” He demanded. Dean looked at his brother, confused.

Morgan straightened up from his stance, playing with the bud of his cigarette with his thumb. He smirked, meeting the eyes of the tall hunter.

“Thought you were curious about why I’m here,” Morgan reminded, and Sam sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t want the Charmed Ones dead. I don’t want the world destroyed. Frankly, it had gotten to where they left us alone if we left them alone. And the few that still have brain cells wouldn’t go up against the original, the twice-blessed and the next generation of the Charmed Ones,” 

Sam clenched his jaw and crossed his arms. “I’m not going behind her back,” 

It finally clicked, at least for Dean, what the two were talking about. His face jolted towards Morgan. 

“I’m going behind two mighty beings back. You aren’t going to go behind their backs,” Morgan offered; this shifted Dean now to become tense.  
“Why exactly should we care? You’d probably kill them when they least expect it,” Sam defeated, incredibly this time.   
“Because I know who killed the witches’ mother,” Morgan announced. “I also know, who summoned the Dimensional Shambler,”   
“Yeah, we can figure that out too,” Sam protested, trying anything in his ability not to work with Morgan.   
“No doubt in my mind,” Morgan responded. “But, not you or the witches will get close to them,”   
“And we need help from you?” Dean asked, breaking the silence he held. “We don’t work with threats,”

“You also don’t work with witches,” Morgan responded, and Dean sighed, looking away from them. “Come now, hunters. I’m not here to achieve greater power, I have no interest in their deaths, and frankly, I’m too old to care about it anymore. It was actually peaceful until this demon messed everything up,” 

“Why come to us then?” Sam asked, and Morgan sighed and shrugged.  
“Because humans can’t kill me, and they would have already blown me up by now,” Morgan responded. “You’ve two have already made yourselves known to Pierson. He’ll want you dead, or to turn you against the Halliwell’s which in case he could. Human’s minds are easily persuaded and, well, you are hunters, and they are human,” 

“I’m sure I can figure out a way to kill you,” Dean mumbled before sighing.  
“I’m sure you could,” Morgan responded before looking at the shorter one. “I came with a warning. They may not trust you now, but if you show them you trust them, they will let you help them. Melinda has already shown that with the both of you for saving her nieces, if you really want to help them, then I suggest winning favorites with one of the younger ones,”

“Who d'you have in mind?” Dean asked Sam, hitting his shoulder softly. “What?”   
“Valeria,” Morgan interrupted before taking another draft of his cigarette. “She’s the younger sister of Vanessa; she can see everything, feel everything. You get her to trust you, and everyone will trust you,”   
“We don’t need your help,” Sam protested.

“You’ve already met the sisters, and two of their cousins, hunter. Veronica was the most distant from you, but Valeria wasn’t,” Morgan continued. “Constantia is Vanessa’s best friend. Which she trusted the other hunter enough to leave alone. Trust goes both ways; you need to give some to receive some,” 

“What’s in it for you?” Dean asked, looking at his brother before looking back at Morgan.  
“As I said, a world that isn’t destroyed,” Morgan answered.

Morgan looked at both of the brothers before blinking away from sight. Both of them blinked, trying to figure out where he went but got distracted by a knock on the door. Sam pressed his eyebrows together before moving to the door, looking through the peephole before quickly unlocking and opening the door.

“Is Vanessa with you?” Valeria quickly walked in, scanning the room and Sam pressing himself against a wall as she shot through.  
“No,” Dean answered, and Valeria turned to look at him. “Who are you? And how do you know Vanessa?”   
“Valeria,” Sam responded, answering Dean’s questions.   
“Have you’ve seen Vanessa?” Valeria asked before looking around, her eyes lingering on the spot where Morgan had been standing.

Valeria's brown hair had been in a tight bun with strands of hair peeking out, no doubt in their minds that it's apart of the mourning their family is experiencing. Her black dress with her matching high heels and light makeup proved the theory even more. The redness of her puffy eyes held a hit of sadness and worry, and concern as she scanned every part of the motel room.

“No, why did something happen?” Sam asked, drawing her attention to him.  
“A demon attacked the Manor, everyone is okay because of her, but she left shortly after that. We aren’t sure where she went, so I thought trying here meant to lead me to her,” Valeria answered and sighed.

Sam looked at Dean for a second before looking back at Valeria. “We can help find her,”   
Valeria shook her head before; her face turned still as pictures played in her head, and her eyes flickered.   
“You good?” Dean asked, stepping slightly back, and Valeria’s eyes flickered to him.   
“Yeah, they found her, sorry,” Valeria said before moving towards the door.

“Hey, could you tell her that we are sorry,” Dean said, stopping Valeria by softly grabbing her arm.  
“My brother and I are both sorry for your loss,” If he was honest with himself, it had conflicted him on all of this matter, but he still knew that they had done nothing to harm anyone.

And to make matters worse, they just lost their mother, similar to what had happened to them all those years ago, what they are still trying to find and kill. Valeria looked down at his hand when he quickly removed it and backed up at him.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, stepping a step back.  
“Conflict and confrontation are two different things. It conflicts with you on helping us because we are witches, but you are confronting the hardship of accepting that we are good. Dean, we are human; we make mistakes, have guilt, lost, and find love. What makes us different is because we know that even the wrong thing for the right reason is still the wrong reason,” Valeria spoke calm and clear, not taking her eyes off of Dean. “It is your choice whether you help us or be against us. For what it’s worth, my sister trusts you. Even if you don’t trust her,” 

Valeria blinked before taking her eyes off Dean before glancing at Sam and then leaving the hotel room. They were silent for a few minutes before Sam closed the hotel door.

“This city is weirder than I originally thought,” Dean decided, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck.

“You have to admit that they are kinda cool,” Sam said, offering an innocent smile. “At least we don’t have to hide anything from her; she knows now,”  
“I don’t need anyone reading my mind,” Dean protested and shook himself at the thought. “I have private thoughts up there,”   
“Hopefully, she doesn’t tell Vanessa,” Sam smirked, smiling towards his older brother, who gave a look of god he hoped not in return.   
“I hope you are joking,” Dean responded, and Sam laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

“Admit it, Dean. You like Vanessa,” Sam answered, stopping his chuckle.  
“I don’t,” Dean defended, looking away from his brother, shaking his head.   
“What do you want me to think? You're really going to tell me that you don’t like her; if she weren’t a witch, you would have made your move, and you know it,” Sam mentioned before smiling and taking his jacket. “Millie would say the same,”

“I don’t like her. And for the record, Millie would be on my side,” Dean protested still and looked back at his brother, confused as he was getting his jacket. “Where are you going?”  
“We have work, right? Gonna get supplies,” Sam announced, and Dean smiled this time.   
“That’ll boy,” Dean agreed, grabbing his jacket.

**************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (( Disclaimer: I take no credit for any canon characters, monsters and other show/book relatations. The only credit I take is the characters I have created such as Vanessa and her sisters, etc. All other credit goes to the respective owners. Millie Winchester is a creation of my friend, all credit goes to her. ))

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer, I own none of the characters from Supernatural or Charmed. The original characters that aren't a part, I created myself. Any characters resembling them are coincidental. 
> 
> This story is also published on Wattpad until the same username as mine here. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and have a wonderful day <3.


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